A Year in the Life
by Tintinnabula
Summary: This is the sequel to Waiting. It looks at the year following Sophie's rescue of Howl. Justin returns. Will he ruin things for the young lovers?
1. Starting Over

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

_Author's Note: This story continues where HMC (movie) left off, but builds on the backstory and details given in _Waiting_. So if you are confused… _

_Emma is the given name of the Witch of the Waste._

_Uncle Octavius gave Howl his secret garden/mill cottage. He had a long career at the Royal Academy of Sorcery, and taught with Madame Suliman, as did Emma._

_Howl's parents had both died by the time Howl turned six. He lived with his uncle while attending the Academy, but was expelled when Calcifer was discovered._

**Chapter 1: Starting Over**

He'd finally said it. They had climbed up from the remains of the castle (Howl needing help, as he was still a bit weak), and had stood atop a lichen-speckled outcropping, trying to make sense of all that had happened. Howl had grasped Sophie's hand and had spoken to her softly. "I should have said this days ago, Sophie. And I kicked myself for not doing so." She had turned to him, questioningly. "I love you, Sophie. Even without a heart, I loved you."

Sophie's soft velvet eyes grew bright with tears as she smiled a most radiant smile. "I know, Howl. I am still finding all of this hard to accept, though."

"What do you mean?" His voice was gentle, but concerned.

"You've known me much longer than I've known you."

"Yes, that's true, in a way. I saw you and knew you'd somehow be an important part of my life. I dreamed about you almost every night, you know, for years and years. But Sophie, the thing is, I was sure I'd love you, but I really didn't know what love is. Not until just days ago. You taught me that, you know. You saved me, Sophie."

"I did? How?"

She still didn't see how special she was. "Sophie, I've never known anyone like you. You love unconditionally, you forgive those who've hurt you. Your love is a gift. Help me to be more like you." Howl pulled her to him and buried his face in her shimmering hair.

"Oh, Howl," Sophie whispered. "You already are. I can't imagine anyone as generous as you. You took an orphan and two old women into your home, no questions asked."

"I knew you were one of the old ladies, Sophie. And I did ask questions. So that hardly counts. And the answers you gave to those questions." Howl rolled his eyes.

"Hush," Sophie cried, giving him a push. "You put up with me rearranging your spells and ruining your hair. Although I really do like it better this way."

"Hmm. I'm glad," Howl said, kissing her lightly on the lips. "I don't think I'll have as much time to attend to my personal grooming habits anymore."

"Why would that be? I rather like you the way you are." Her tiny hand caressed his face.

"Sophie, if I'm to give you the world I'll have to cut back somewhere else. One hour each morning in the bathroom will be enough." Howl affected a most self-sacrificing expression and a saintly smile to match.

It was easy to imagine a golden glow around his head. (If he had more energy, he would have somehow engineered it, Sophie thought.) Sophie snickered aloud. "I'll adjust, I guess."

"Sophie," a familiar voice said, "you won't have to adjust. I'll give you ten to one odds that Howl won't be able to reduce his bathroom time by more than ten minutes."

"Calcifer! You came back!"

………

Howl surveyed the wreckage of the castle. A first glance showed him that nothing was salvageable, except for its four legs and the heavy oaken portal. It would take some time to create a new castle, and Howl was in no condition to begin the task immediately.

Sophie seemed to read his thoughts. "Howl, where will we sleep tonight? Granny Emma is still not quite herself, and I think you'll sleep for days once we find a bed for you."

"Not if you were with me," Howl thought, but kept this to himself.

Sophie looked out over the wastes and saw the flames of Market Chipping. "My old home is gone," she said sadly. "My whole life took place there." She thought for a moment, then turned pink. "Well, my whole life before you." Her eyes filled with tears despite her happiness at being with Howl. She turned away from the fiery view on the horizon.

"Sophie," Howl promised, turning her face to look into her eyes. I'll walk with you above Market Square again. You'll see, love. They'll rebuild it and all of your memories will live again. We can even live there, if you like." He gave her hand a squeeze.

"Come with me," Howl said, and turned to Markl and Emma. "You, too. Heen, will you be traveling with us or does Madame Suliman need you?"

Heen wheezed at her name, and ran in circles around Howl's ankles.

"I'll take that to mean you're coming with us," Howl laughed, throwing his head back with abandon.

Howl led the way down hills that were more rock than soil to the site where Sophie had crashed not long before. He said a few strange words and the portal reappeared. "Kingsbury." He said softly. "Academe Row." He opened the door, which was already turned to black. "After you, Markl, ladies," he smiled, standing at the threshhold. "Hot baths and soft beds await us."

Four humans, one demon and one errand-dog moved into the ether, which crystallized immediately into the fine avenues of the capital, unscathed by the recent fighting. They emerged into an alley, and turned into the busy street. One would never think a war had taken place, judging from these surroundings. Men in overcoats and top hats walked down the streets, the evening news tucked tightly under their arms. Women hurried home with the ingredients for a late-planned meal. It appeared to be an ordinary day in the opulent city.

Howl stopped short before a beautiful building, easily the most elegant in this very stylish street. Sophie's eyes widened at its tall windows and finely crafted draperies, which hinted at the sophistication of the rooms within.

"This is where I grew up, Sophie. It's ours now."

Sophie looked at him quizzically. "This is your home?"

"Come on inside." He knocked on the highly polished, black door, and smiled his bright smile on the woman who answered.

"Master Howl. How good to see you." The door was opened wide, and the weary travelers entered.


	2. In Which Howl and Sophie Sleep Together

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

**Chapter 2: In Which Howl and Sophie Sleep Together **

Howl and his motley family walked through the door to his childhood home. The mirrors were still covered with black cloth, and timepieces were stopped at an hour that had occurred two weeks before.

Sophie wondered about this. Someone close to Howl had died, and he had said nothing, although she could see how serious he'd become since they'd entered the house. There was so much she did not know about Howl, but this wasn't the right time to ask. Howl needed to rest as soon as possible. She could see he was on the verge of collapse. Sophie turned to the maid who had answered the door.

"Howl is very tired. He will need something quick to eat and a room in which to sleep. We all will."

"Yes, marm," said the maid, curtseying deeply.

"Noel," Howl said. The woman smiled at this. Master Howl remembered her after all. "We'll take dinner in our rooms. I would like my old room, if possible. Please place Emma in Uncle Octavius' room, Markl in the room adjoining hers, and Sophie in the suite next to mine. And if you could find something for each of us to wear to bed, that would be wonderful. As you can see, we packed lightly."

Howl entered the parlor and sprawled himself over a fussy chair, its seat and back covered with petit point, its arms and legs carved in a dainty pattern. Sophie looked around the room. "This was where Howl grew up," she thought. "I never would have guessed he lived in such luxury. This is so unlike the castle. Still, this does explain his expensive taste in clothes."

"Sophie. Sophie?" Howl interrupted her thoughts, with a sheepish smile on his face. "I hope you don't mind having the rooms next to mine. We have so much to talk about, and I thought it would be easier to have you close by." Sophie turned bright red at this, and Howl laughed. "Will you join me for dinner, love?"

Sophie nodded, unable to speak. The maid, Noel returned then. She must have put the whole staff to work, Sophie thought, to get the rooms prepared so quickly.

"Noel, one last favor," Howl said. "Could you please serve Sophie's dinner in my rooms?" Noel curtseyed and hurried down the house's main hall.

Markl spoke up then. "Howl, I'll eat with you, too. You'll never believe what Granny Witch did to Calcifer. I saw the whole thing!"

Sophie was relieved until Emma spoke up. "Markl, did you know this is a magical house? I spent time here as a child, you know, long ago. This place is full of secret passages and spells."

Markl turned to Emma, eyes wide in delight. "Never mind, Howl. I'll see you tomorrow." He dashed up to Howl and Sophie, threw a quick hug around each and yanked Emma's arm. "Let's go see! C'mon!" He rushed down the hall, dragging Emma. Heen danced circles around the pair.

"Howl, are you forgetting something?" said Calcifer, giving off multicolored sparks of indignation. "What am I, chopped liver? I'll stay in Sophie's room. She obviously needs a chaperone."

…….. …….

"Hunger is the best condiment," is an Ingarian proverb, and Sophie thought it applied particularly well in the context of this meal. The food was incredible, and both she and Howl quickly ate their fill. Sophie felt a little tipsy from the wine that had accompanied the meal. She was not used to drinking, and it took little alcohol to overwhelm her small body. Howl's room had been cool, despite the warm weather outside, and he'd lit a fire in the room's grate. This only added to her drowsiness.

They moved to the inglenook to continue the conversation they'd started over dinner.

"I still don't quite understand what happened today," said Sophie. "How could my present be your past?"

"You never questioned the portal, Sophie," said Howl. "How can one door lead to many places? It's the same thing, really, complicated just a bit by time. You could feel it, couldn't you, when I took you to the meadow?"

"Yes. I was sure I'd been there before."

"That was because you _had_ been there. In my past, not yours. But it did happen, so you could feel it a bit. It just happened out of order."

Sophie leaned against Howl, closed her eyes, and considered his words. Some time later she said, "It's hard to imagine that I had no choice in the matter, that you knew what I would do years before I did. I've always thought the decisions I make are my own entirely. Are we really just puppets of fate?"

"Hmm. I don't think so. You made the choice to go through the door, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"Just as I made the choice to turn the portal to my past."

"It's almost as though history has already been recorded, so that our present, which is brand new to us, has already happened. As if someone is standing outside of time, watching our story unfold and knowing how it ends, but not intervening. Oh, this makes my head hurt!" said Sophie, frustrated.

Howl wrapped his arm around her and kissed her on the forehead. "Sophie, you expect so much of yourself. I was in school for years before I could wrap my mind around that particular idea. You're way past where I was, and you've thought about it for only a few minutes." Howl stifled a yawn. "I think I could sleep for five days straight."

Sophie jumped up. "Oh, Howl. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have stayed so long."

Howl pulled her to him. "Never apologize for that, Sophie. Every moment you are with me is a gift." His lips found hers and kissed them softly. This felt so right, unlike anything he'd experienced before. He pulled her closer and kissed her harder. Then he stopped himself. Sophie looked at him, breathless.

"Good night, my love."

……… ………

Sophie sat on her bed, removed her shoes and stockings, and flopped back against many soft pillows. Calcifer was nowhere to be seen, despite his words about Sophie needing a chaperone. Sophie found that her mind, which had been quite fuzzy just moments before, was now clear as a cold winter's night. She ran her finger over her lips, touching the place Howl had touched. A boy's nightshirt and dressing gown had been laid at the foot of her bed. Were they once Howl's? Sophie smiled at the thought. They fit her surprisingly well, she found, settling into the large, soft bed and turning down the flame on the gas lamp mounted nearby.

But she couldn't sleep. Her mind raced with the events of the day.

She'd thought she'd lost him, earlier today, as she'd seen him surrounded and outnumbered by the horde of reptilian wizards. Somehow he'd survived it and in getting his heart back returned to the person he had been.

There was no point in lying in bed, Sophie realized. She adjusted the lamp and searched in the drawer of the ornately carved table just next to her bed. Nothing to read. Sophie got up, pulled on the dressing gown, and left her room. She'd just look in on him, and make sure he was sleeping. She opened Howl's door and crept to his bed. A light still burned in his room, and she could see that Howl was indeed sleeping, his mouth slightly opened, his breathing regular. He looked peaceful, childlike. How lucky she was to know him. She really didn't want to leave. There was a small wingchair next to the window. She sat down in it, then rose and quietly moved the chair next to his bed, and sat down again to be with him for a while. "I feel so calm when I'm near him," she thought, and leaned over to kiss him gently on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, my darling." She curled her legs under her, and leaned her head against the chair back. She slipped quickly into slumber.

……. …….

Howl awoke, quite rested, at 3 o'clock that night. What was the pounding noise all around him, and where was he? He was slightly disoriented as he looked around his childhood room, but quickly remembered how he had arrived there. And the pounding noise was his heart. It was a good replacement for the constant yammering of Calcifer, Howl thought. It would have been strange for things to be entirely silent.

The room was bright, Howl noticed, as the light was still burning, but it was clearly still night. Howl heard the nighttime sounds of the city—the street cleaners that kept the towns streets immaculate, despite the sooty exhaust of steam cars and engines, the rumbling of a train pulling into a nearby station. Howl stretched and settled into his bed, and rolled over to extinguish the light. He was surprised to see his Sophie. She was curled low in the chair, her arm draped onto his bed, her hair cascaded over the chair's arm. "That can't be comfortable," Howl thought, rising from his bed. He smiled, recognizing the nightshirt and dressing gown she wore. She was as small as he'd been at age twelve. She looked so fragile, so beautiful in her sleep. He shuddered, remembering that he had almost lost the capacity to love her. Surely it would be okay for her to take his bed—he would take hers. He was certain she would wake if he were to carry her next door, and he couldn't let her remain contorted in that chair. Howl pulled back the coverlet on his bed and gently arranged Sophie in the spot where he had lain. He trembled slightly, as he felt her warm skin through the thin cotton of his old nightclothes. He adjusted the coverlet around her, and brushed his lips against her cheek. A sweet smile was his reward. He stood up to leave, then realized he couldn't. He was well-rested, and there she was, the woman he'd nearly lost forever. Howl lay down next to her, although he stayed above the bed's blankets. He wrapped his arm around her waist, and buried his face in her hair. He couldn't ask for more than to be in her presence, even if she was unaware of him. He fell asleep with a smile as serene as hers.


	3. In Which There Is Some Very Bad News

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

**Chapter 3: In Which There Is Some Very Bad News **

Sophie stirred, and stretched luxuriantly, nestling her cheek back into her sleep-warmed pillow, which had the indescribable softness a pillow always does until a person has woken up completely.

"Good morning, love," a handsome tenor voice said. Sophie rolled over to find Howl lounging next to her in bed, legs crossed, arms folded behind his head, and fully dressed in a very elegant (and obviously new) suit. It was more sober than his typical choice in garments, but he was breathtaking nonetheless. Its black color perfectly matched the jet of his hair, and made his skin seem even paler, his eyes bluer. "I'd never have pegged you as the late-riser type," he said, a gleam in his eye.

"Howl. What are you doing in my room?" Sophie asked, pulling the covers to her chin, and turning an intense shade of pink.

"The question, dear Sophie, is, 'What are you doing in _my_ room?'" Howl smoothed her hair with his fingers, and said teasingly, "You still snore, you know." Sophie turned redder still, and pulled the covers over her head. "But it's a soft, gentle, sound." He heard a stifled cry of embarrassment. "Oh, Sophie! I'm only kidding!"

Sophie peeled the covers back enough to show her face, and saw that indeed this was Howl's chamber, not her own. It was littered with the detritus of a childhood filled with magic. Sophie sat up, pulling the coverlet with her, and held it in place by crossing her arms against her chest. "How did I get here, Howl? I remember being a bit drunk last night, and coming in to check on you. I…" Her voice trailed off. She was obviously embarrassed and could not put into words the question she wanted to ask.

"You fell asleep in the chair, my love. I was sure you'd have a back ache if I left you there, so I gave you my bed. Nothing happened, Sophie. That wouldn't have been right." She relaxed visibly. "Sophie, nothing will happen between us that you would not want. You have my promise." He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Now get up, sleepy head. There's a surprise waiting for you in your room."

Sophie rose from the bed, having decided that if Howl had seen her in these clothes the night before, there was no harm in him seeing her this way again. "I'll see you in a bit, then," she said and exited.

She was wrong, of course, and did not see the look of longing Howl gave her as he glimpsed her beautiful form. Even the abundant cloth of a boy's wrinkled nightshirt did little to hide her beauty.

………… …….

There were several surprises, in fact. First was a breakfast: an omelet, warm, buttered toast and tea. On the bed were piled several wrapped packages Sophie recognized from the castle. Howl had apparently magicked them back into existence. Sophie hastily finished her breakfast, then sat on the bed to inspect the stack of gifts.

The first was a dress of palest robin's egg blue. Sophie gasped at the fine embroidery which completely covered its skirt. The second was another dress, this of rose-colored, watered silk. It was more elegant than anything she had ever owned, she realized, touching the fine fabric. It was simply beautiful. The third was yet another dress, this of cotton lawn. It was plainer than the other two, graced only by a tucked bodice and ruffle of the same fine fabric. She lifted the dress from the box and saw a smaller package hidden within the folds of the garment. It contained a ruby brooch, with smooth cabochon surface and a faceted reverse. It seemed to magnify the light that entered it. She could not wear something so beautiful, she thought and set it aside. The next packages contained sundry undergarments of the finest quality. Sophie colored again as she wondered, then realized how Howl had known exactly what to buy. There were boots of creamy tan lambskin as well, which she could tell were just her size. The last box contained a hat. Sophie in her expertise recognized the work of Kingsbury's finest hatter. Her mother had often worn his creations, though she typically chose the more overdone specimens. Oh, how Howl was spoiling her!

Sophie quickly dressed in the pale yellow gown. It fit her perfectly and completely suited her, she realized, looking into a handsomely carved and gilded mirror propped against the wall. Sophie had not noticed much about her room the night before, as she'd spent so little time there. Now she saw it was the most elegant bed chamber she'd ever seen. It was even nicer than Fanny's and that was saying a lot. Apart from her bedroom there was a small study, and even a private bath. Howl's family really knew how to live, she thought.

A knock on the door disturbed her. "May I come in?" said Howl's voice. She opened the door and threw her arms around Howl. He stumbled back a bit, from the force of her embrace.

"Oh thank you, Howl!" she cried.

"Easy, Sophie. I've only been gone an hour or so. You can't miss me that much already!" He grinned at her through his shaggy bangs. "You look beautiful, Sophie, simply beautiful. I thought you'd like that dress best. It's my favorite, too. Classic and elegant, like you." He looked her over. "But where is the brooch? Bring it here." His fingers touched her neck as he fastened the brooch to her high collar. Sophie felt a small thrill of electricity at each brush of his fingers.

"One more gift," Howl said, leaning into the hallway. "You'll need it today." It was a parasol, of softest yellow to match her dress. "Shall we?" he said, extending his arm. "Before you ask, Markl is quite busy with Emma. This really _is_ a magical house, you know."

………………..

Kingsbury was scorchingly hot, as befit its latitude. This summer had been worse than many, as it hadn't rained in weeks. Howl and Sophie heard this fact several times, as every shopkeeper brought it up. Each one, it seemed, hoped for rain, though it might lessen custom somewhat.

They'd spent several hours exploring the city, by carriage and then on foot. No one they'd met spoke of the war. It must not seem real here, Sophie thought. She made a point of asking the next shopkeeper they encountered. Hadn't they heard, he'd replied. Peace talks had begun. The war was over and the country back on course. Would they be making a purchase to support the nation's economy.

"Back on course? Hardly," harrumphed Sophie to herself, thinking of Market Chipping. Where were Fanny and Lettie? Was Martha okay? She'd write to them tonight, she thought, pushing her worries away. She did her best to focus on the handsome man by her side, who still seemed like a dream to her.

Sophie really wasn't sure where Howl was taking her, though she'd asked several times. They appeared to be wandering aimlessly on an endless shopping trip, although they'd purchased nothing except two pastries and some hot chocolate. He changed the subject each time she asked for a destination, in the smooth and subtle way at which he was adept. After a while, Sophie stopped asking and immersed herself instead in the beauty of the capital city. It was only her second time in Kingsbury, and the first had been so filled with anxiety that she hadn't really noticed the perfect elegance of its streets, the tastefulness of its many shops, the sights and smells of this vibrant seat of the realm.

Now they appeared to be headed for the river, Sophie thought, catching a whiff of the unmistakable smell of an urban waterway. They arrived there shortly. From the marks on its walled sides, Sophie could tell the river was somewhat lower than normal. That accounted for the pungent smell.

"Ugh. Let's get away from here quickly," Howl said. "There's something I want you to experience, and it does not involve the sense of smell." He walked forward, grasping her hand and pulling her along. He seemed impatient, but happy also. Before them stood a series of wide steps, broken up by planted landings and terraces. They began to climb, and Sophie quickly found herself quite winded. Howl found a seat for her in a parterre bordering the steps and looked at her with concern.

"I keep forgetting you were ninety years old only days ago. But I did get you something, back in one of the shops we passed." Sophie smiled. She had thought he'd been gabbing with the shopkeeper (Howl certainly seemed to know a lot of people!), and was surprised at the carved fan he pulled from an inside pocket of his suit coat. It had cream ribs and fabric to match. On it was embroidered a beautiful picture of jonquils and daisies, in the perfect shade of yellow to match her dress. He fanned her gently and whispered words that must have been a spell, for Sophie felt better almost immediately.

He walked with her more slowly, and said, "Sophie, I will take better care of you."

"I think you've done an admirable job already. I feel fine, really. I don't want you fussing after me, Howl."

The stairs narrowed and turned away from the river. They kept climbing until they met the summit, where Sophie saw for the first time King's lake. The river was dammed here, she saw. Howl led her out onto the dam's walkway where several people were enjoying the magnificent view. It truly took her breath away, Howl saw, and smiled. The palace glimmered in the heat of the day, and farther in the distance the clouds were part of a truly unique sight. They were reflected twice: once as a mirage and again in the lake.

"I used to come here every day after school," Howl said. "How do you like it?"

"It's.. it's magnificent," Sophie breathed, struck deeply by its beauty. "I can see why you came here so often."

Sophie turned to Howl and looked at him. He was silent, a look of peace upon his face. Then he said, "I'm glad I could share it with you." He paused. "Sophie, there's something I need to ask of you." He seemed slightly uncertain now.

"Whatever it is, Howl, I'm sure the answer is 'yes.'"

He smiled and held both her hands in his. "Sophie…"

His words were cut off by the flare of an explosion, and its echo across the lake.

Howl's eyes widened, as did Sophie's. What had they just witnessed?

A siren sounded, then several. The couple turned and hurried across the walkway, heading home. Something terrible had happened. It was a short walk, Sophie found, despite their earlier perambulations, as they soon arrived in a familiar street. A newsboy stood on the corner, where business was brisk. Howl picked up a paper and shook it open. Its top half was dominated by the headline: "King and Top Aide Killed in Explosion." Below that was written in smaller print, "A Nation Mourns."

Howl turned even paler than usual and pulled Sophie to him.

This was his fault.


	4. In Which Sophie Gets Angry

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

**Chapter 4: In Which Sophie Gets Angry**

Sophie had sat idle in the parlor for several hours. She'd knocked on Howl's door several times, and hearing no response, had tried to enter. The doorknob turned, but the door wouldn't budge. He'd locked himself in magically, she guessed. She, Emma and Markl had eaten dinner together, where the little boy had regaled her with tales of the magic mirror he'd found that day. After dinner he took his Granny Witch off again to find more treasures, and Sophie was alone. There was no needlework to do, and the house was spotlessly clean. She'd tried but could not find a library, and didn't want to bother the servants with silly requests.

It was getting late, and Howl must be hungry. She might as well take him a tray, she thought. She set off to the kitchen, although she was not quite sure where it was. With a bit of wandering she found it. The kitchen staff looked at her strangely when she insisted on taking the tray to Howl herself. She heard whispers as she left. They obviously didn't realize she was one of them, she thought.

Sophie rapped on Howl's door and said in a crisp voice, "Howl. Your dinner's here. Please let me in, Howl. Please talk to me." There was no answer. She leaned over to deposit the tray, and checked the threshold for signs of oozing green slime. She found none. This did not make her feel any better. Sophie stomped off and shut her door with a satisfying bang.

"Trouble in paradise already?" said Calcifer, who hovered in front of the mirror, inspecting himself. "I noticed you weren't in your bed last night when I stopped by. I figured things were going swimmingly."

"Some chaperone you are!" retorted Sophie. "Where have you been all this time?"

"There's a lot to do in Kingsbury, Soph, and after being trapped in that hearth for so long, I needed a little Calcifer time." He noticed her expression. "Seriously, Sophie, what's wrong?"

"Howl's been locked in his room for four hours—"

"And the problem with that is…what, exactly? Oh, wait! It means I won our little bet!"

Sophie took a deep breath. "How did Howl stand your constant wisecracking for all these years?"

Calcifer realized Sophie was upset. She had never snapped at him before.

"I'm sorry, Sophie. Why don't you start at the beginning and I'll keep the comments to myself."

Sophie told him of their wonderful morning together and of the sudden explosion at the palace. She showed him the headline from the newspaper and he slowly read the story.

"Oh," Calcifer said, finally, with amoral coolness. "He killed the king and Suliman."

"What?" Sophie's eyes widened. "He was with me. He was _busy_ with me! He couldn't have done this. And he was surprised, shocked when he saw the headline. He nearly passed out, Calcifer."

"But he didn't do it _today_."

"No! Not more back and forth in time nonsense. I'd really hoped I was done with that." She flopped onto the bed, and clasped a pillow in her arms. "You had better tell me the rest."

"Remember the day you visited Suliman? You stood up for Howl, he saw that you loved him…_you_ know."

"I don't think I could stand to have someone knowing my every thought, Calcifer." Sophie grimaced as she considered her intimate thoughts and feelings subject to a demon's appraisal. How had Howl tolerated it? Then she considered the content of the demon's words. "Howl knew I loved him?" she thought. "Yes, I guess I did by then."

"_He_ didn't know _my _thoughts, and that's all that counts, really," replied Calcifer. Anyway, you escaped on the flying cigar, crashed your ship into my beautiful castle, brought back that horrible heart-stealing witch and that smelly dog, blah, blah, blah."

"So? What has this got to do with the King and Suliman dying? What has this got to do with anything?"

"Cool your jets. I'm getting to it. Howl had to do something to buy you some time. He played cat and mouse with the airmen for a time, then hid out until they were gone. He didn't want to lead them back to you. But, being Howl, he got bored. So he visited the munitions shed and did a little monkeywrenching."

"Monkeywrenching?"

"Sabotage. Howl was angry about the number of lives that would be taken by the weapons, so he decided to disable the bombs. I told him not to. Too risky. He was certain to get caught."

"Oh." And then, "Your ethics are appalling, Calcifer."

"I'm a demon, Sophie. What did you expect?" He continued the story. "The quickest way was to replace the gun powder with some other substance. So he traded it for the gravel in the palace's rose garden. You can see what must have happened."

Sophie rose and left the room, a look of determination on her face.

She walked next door, stepped over the uneaten dinner and pounded on the door.

"Howl! Let me in this instant!"

The door swung open. Howl lay sprawled on his bed, which Sophie noticed was unmade. She'd never seen him looking so disheveled. His clothes were rumpled, eyes red-rimmed, nose red.

"So that fireball ratted on me, huh?"

"What did you think I would do when I found out?" Sophie's eyes blazed. "Leave you?"

Howl looked up at her. Slowly, he nodded. "I killed them, Sophie. I killed them."

The anger left her. Sophie sat on Howl's bed, pulled his head onto her lap and stroked his hair. "I can see you're really upset. No drama. No green slime." Her joke didn't have its intended effect. "Howl, this wasn't an act of intentional malice. Of course it wasn't. You would never intentionally harm some one. That's one thing I love about you."

"I thought it would rain. It's like clockwork in this city. On summer days, it always rains by noon--that's why it's so damn humid here. I chose the path because it was safer than piling all of the gunpowder in one place, and I didn't have much time. I thought the rain would wash it away." Howl paused, and swallowed hard. "But Sophie, I knew what I was doing—part of me did. I hoped they weren't smokers. And part of me didn't care."

"We were at war, Howl, and those bombs would have killed thousands of innocent people. It's not as simple as you make it sound. I'm not saying you have no responsibility, but you can't view this in simple black and white. The world isn't that clearly drawn."

Howl had taken her hand and pressed her fingers to his lips. He didn't speak.

"Howl, you haven't read the story in the paper. The story said nothing about a rose garden. I think it's possible you had nothing to do with this. Maybe it's just a horrible coincidence."

"Sophie, you're so innocent. They'll have my head for this."

"You'll have to do what you think is right, Howl. But get the facts, first. Please."

"I have to make this right." Howl closed his eyes and sighed. Sophie took that as her dismissal. She stood and leaned over to kiss him goodnight.

"Stay with me, Sophie."

There was something so beseeching in his eyes that Sophie agreed. This way she could keep an eye on him, she rationalized. It would be like him to run off and do something rash, and she didn't want to lose him.

"We'll keep these clothes on," Howl said. "I just want to feel you near me."

Sophie removed her high-buttoned boots, then stockings, folding them neatly and placing them on the chair that still stood next to the bed. She undid the buttons fastening her high collar, and then removed the ruby brooch, placing it carefully on top of her belongings. She stretched out to lie on the rumpled bed; she faced her kind, gentle sorcerer and closed her eyes. It was strange to be laying this close to a man, she thought. She could smell the aroma of lavender on him, her favorite fragrance. She smiled as she inhaled the heady scent, made even more intoxicating by the fact that it was mixed with his. She opened her eyes to see Howl looking at her, but not in a way that made her uncomfortable. She nestled into his arms.

"I should have known you would still love me," he said, and kissed her gently. To his surprise, she returned the embrace, tentatively at first, then with more conviction. Howl broke it off, finally, and turned down the light. He would not be sleeping tonight.


	5. In Which We Meet a Reluctant Princess

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

**Chapter 5: In Which We Meet a Reluctant Princess**

The cloister of Artemis was typically quiet, as its inmates had taken vows of silence, a common practice in such places. Today, in one small cell, this vow had been broken. It was well before sunrise, early even for the women of this place. Sister Giulia was talking to herself while packing her meager possessions into a valise she had last seen several years ago. Its fine tapestry cloth contrasted with the rough homespun of her habit. She removed her veil and wimple, and pulled her fingers through her short, russet locks. There was no mirror to check for cowlicks or other signs of unruliness, but this did not concern her.

"I'll take my bow and quiver with me, though heavens know when I'll use them," Giulia said aloud, testing vocal cords that had not vibrated in four years. Her voice sounded strange to her. The vow of silence was an honor to their patron, and also a commonsense practice. Loud voices ruined the meditative quality of the sisters' woodland journeys, the closeness they felt to nature as they used their skill to locate and collect their quarry. The sixteen-year old sighed. "Stupid, stupid brother. Why didn't he marry and produce an heir?"

She heard the sound of a carriage on the gravel drive below her window. She closed her valise, stripped her cot and hurried downstairs. This journey to the court would not take long, unlike the mental path she must journey to ready herself.

…………….

The first order of business had been the memorial service for her half-brother. It had been a thoroughly royal affair, and she had received mourners for hours afterward. Giulia had never liked the palace and its overdone protocols. However, today she'd tried her best out of respect for the office. She was princess regent for now, she'd learned, until a final decision was made about her suitability to rule. As a sixteen-year old, she was considered a bit young for the job. She agreed wholeheartedly with this assessment. She'd rather not have the job at all. Thankfully, there'd been no ceremony. This would wait until the fateful decision was made.

………………….

Her half-brother's second-most senior adviser had briefed her on the state of the nation, the progress in the peace negotiations and the unfortunate incident which had taken the life of the king and his sorceress. Even more unfortunate was the fact that the Ingarian press had made accusations of their island neighbor, Strangia, claiming the deaths of the king and Suliman were assassinations in retribution for their prince's kidnapping. The Strangians were understandably put out by this, and Ingarian agents had reported rumblings of an end to the recent cease-fire. It would not do for the peace-talks to break down. Ingary's economy was in tatters, despite propaganda to the contrary, its countrymen were spiritually wounded, and the country was in need of a quick resolution to the war.

There were other problems as well. One building in the royal barracks had been hastily fortified to contain the scores of bizarre flying reptiles that had pledged allegiance to the king. They were former wizards, Giulia learned, and no longer in control of their mental faculties or their powers. They would be an embarrassment and danger to the state should they be discovered, and therefore must be dealt with delicately.

"I know nothing of statecraft," Giulia said to this adviser, disarming him with her candor. "This is not the path that was laid out for me. I will depend on your advice. How shall we deal with these problems?"

………………….

Sophie awoke, feeling somewhat uncomfortable, due to the fact that she had slept fully clothed, with layers of petticoats and a rather tight corset constricting her breathing. She rolled over and found that Howl was gone. The indentation in his pillow was cool to her touch. A note in Howl's scrawled handwriting had slid off the pillow, and lay on the rumpled bedspread. He'd gone to visit his uncle's solicitor, it said, but he would be back by noon.

She wouldn't be wearing this dress today, she noted, looking in the mirror on the way to her bath. The gown was creased and bunched in places, wilted in others. She'd have no choice but to wear one of the more elaborate gowns Howl had given her.

She was stunning in the pale blue dress, although of course, she did not notice this. She heard Emma and Markl in the breakfast room as she entered. Emma seemed much more lucid this morning than she'd ever been in her current physical form. Could this have anything to do with Suliman's death? It would be like that horrible woman to have added a touch of senility when she's stripped the Witch of the Waste of her powers. But with her death, her spells would be broken.

After breakfast, Markl took Sophie on a tour of the secret places he'd found in the house. The hidden staircase had been most delightful to him, and the tower room it led to he now considered his secret lair. "Do you think Master Howl would let this be my playroom?" he asked.

"I don't see why not," Sophie replied, happy to see her young boy acting his age. "Let's ask him, later."

Markl showed her the mirror that had enthralled him the day before and finally the library that Sophie had searched for.

"There's a spell on it, Sophie. Granny Witch remembered it yesterday. Octavius' dad was a bit of a joker, she said. We figured you'd been looking for it." Markl ran out of the library in pursuit of other magical treasures, and Sophie was left alone.

She looked around in delight. The room was large and round, covered in bookcases from floor to the ceiling, which was quite high. A gallery reached by a helical staircase allowed access to the books farthest from the ground, and many of the books were unlike any she'd seen before.

Sophie ran her finger along the spines of ancient books, leather softened and timeworn, colors muted by patina. "Most of these are magical texts," she said aloud. "Ah, here are some novels. Oh," she said, disappointed. She saw that she'd read every one as a schoolgirl. She'd dearly hoped for something new to occupy her.

"You might like this," Howl breathed in her ear, embracing her as her head turned in pleasant surprise. He touched her lips with his. In his hand, she saw, he held a beautiful volume its cover tooled and gilt. _Collected Plays of Wm. Shakespeare_, read the cover. "I'm sure you haven't read it. My uncle got it from another world, I believe. There are other ones here, as well. He pointed to a bookcase close to a curtained window. Some of them are a bit odd, but I really like the one you're holding. My favorite story is in there."

"And which one is that?" Sophie smiled at him. Howl seemed rested, and the worries of the previous evening seemed to have evaporated.

"Read them all, then guess. We'll see how well you know me."

"Have you read all of these books?" Sophie asked. There were at least two or three thousand, she guessed.

"Oh, yes, Sophie. Even after I left here, his newest books would appear on the bookshelf in the cottage. I learned most of what I know from these books." His eyes twinkled as he took her hand. "Come over here. I have something for you."

Howl walked with her to an oak table, its surface quarter sawn to enhance its rich grain. A cardboard tube and a dark box lay on the table. Howl slid the box over to her. Sophie admired the detailed inlay on its highly polished lid, beautiful flowers made of many species of wood. She lifted the lid and saw a series of trays inside.

"Howl, this is so thoughtful. A sewing box!"

Inside were golden scissors like ones she once owned, with handles in the shape of a stork. There was also a tiny silver thimble, spools of cotton thread and silk floss, sharps and several folded squares of fine cotton fabric. In the bottom tray she found an embroidery hoop and a pincushion and emery. He'd thought of everything she might need, though she'd never had such nice tools before.

Sophie smiled and looked up at him. "Howl, it makes me feel bad that I don't have anything to give to you. You're spoiling me."

"Well, if you must," said Howl, rather bashfully, pulling a small velvet bag from his coat pocket and giving it to her. Sophie looked inside, and saw many gold and silver coins, each emblazoned with the great seal of Ingary. "But, Sophie, having you with me is really all I need."

Howl admired the woman before him. He had guessed the pale blue color of that gown would make her hair look magnificent. There was just enough warmth in that blue to set off her hair's cool reflectiveness and bring out the creaminess of her skin. This gown was less severe as well. Its neckline dipped just enough to show off her fine collarbones, and the upper swelling of her breasts. He watched her skin slowly color as she noticed him staring. It only made her more attractive. Howl drew her to him. She gently placed her hand on his chest, and turned to face the table. 

"What is the other package?" she asked, not trusting her emotions. How was it that his touch could make her feel so many things at once?

"Oh, it's just paper for drawing the plans for the new castle. We need to get to work on that. I'd really like to hear your thoughts on it." He pulled her to him again, and kissed her firmly on the mouth. "Now where were we?" he asked, his hands entwined in her hair, his lips about to explore her smooth skin.

Noel entered then, with a message bearing the royal seal. Howl was needed immediately by the new regent. She'd sent the royal coach.


	6. A Royal Commission

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

**Chapter 6: A Royal Commission**

Howl had hoped he'd never walk these halls again. He felt the same dread he'd felt ten years before when walking to his daily appointment with Suliman. He racked his brain trying to recall the princess' face. It would be horrible if he'd courted her. He really didn't think he could face another woman's scorn. Not now, when he had so much to protect. And more important than her possible anger was the fear Howl had of being arrested for the murders of Suliman and the king. The coward in him urged Howl to run, but another voice told him to stand tall and face any consequences. Surely they would not have sent the royal coach for him if he was suspected of treason. Perhaps he'd have a chance to make up for the wrong he'd done, with no one the wiser.

Howl's escort, a retainer wearing the overdone livery of the palace, opened a heavy door and waited for Howl to enter the princess' receiving room. Howl looked upon a girl of about sixteen. He sighed in relief. She would have been six when he had last been at court. He certainly wouldn't have pursued her then, and had no memory of meeting this young woman since then. Suddenly a memory came to him of a reddish-brown haired girl, who seemed desperately unhappy to be sitting by her half-brother's side. She'd had the look of a kitten dressed up in doll's clothes, coiled tense and waiting for the moment to escape. As she'd looked his way, Howl had entertained her, on the sly, with small tricks of parlor magic and had noticed her winning smile and happiness at the small diversion. Howl wondered how this girl had spent the last ten years. She did not seem pleased to be here. She looked distinctly uncomfortable with these surroundings. Her hair was cropped close, her clothes severe. A circlet of gold on her head was the only reference to her royal stature. Apart from a signet ring and a golden chain worn low on her waist, she was otherwise unadorned. The resemblance to her half-brother was remarkable. She was tall and large-framed like him, with the build of an athlete and a healthy glow. Unlike the former king, Howl noticed, she had a sharp, insightful look to her eyes, which he saw were appraising him.

"Wizard Howl?" she said in a hoarse, low pitched tone. "I remember you with golden blond hair. But you are the same person, I see." Howl bowed to her, and took the seat closest to her as she gestured to it.

"I have kept on my brother's most senior adviser, after Suliman, of course." She gestured to a man who stood some distance behind her. He nodded his head and stepped forward. "I haven't lived in Kingsbury for years, and I know little of the events of the past months, except what Carlyle has told me."

Howl wondered if this man was trustworthy. "And what has Lord Carlyle told you?" Howl replied, addressing them both.

"I know that there were strange goings on between my brother and Suliman. That the prince of Strangia was somehow enchanted as a flimsy excuse to perpetrate this war, and that my brother ignored all advice his cabinet gave him. I don't mean to disrespect his memory, but Wizard Howl, you met the man, did you not? He had no head for matters of state. It was easy to use him, as Suliman doubtless did. This was all just a game to him, particularly the war games. It is ironic that he died as he did."

Howl swallowed, feeling a knot of foreboding rising in his chest. Had they already reached the conversation he feared?

"There are very few of you left, you know," she continued. "Few sorcerers stood up to Suliman and she crushed most of those who did. This is why you are here, Wizard Howl. We have a delicate situation which I believe you are uniquely equipped to address. Walk with me, please."

The princess led the way through glass-paned doors to a sunlit terrace, down broad stairs to the portico where the royal carriage stood waiting. A footman helped her aboard, and Howl took the place beside her. They traveled the perimeter of the royal compound, disembarking at the barracks.

It was unusual for a princess to visit the living quarters of soldiers, Howl thought, but this princess was quite unusual. She was brutally honest, it seemed, as though she were intent on ignoring the lessons in courtly behavior she had learned since birth. She was also quite beautiful, Howl realized, at the same time surprising himself with the knowledge that he was not the slightest bit attracted to her. This was a first for him. He'd always been able to find something in every woman to enamor himself. Was this the work of love? Howl smiled inwardly at the thought.

"I should warn you," Princess Giulia said, as the door was opened to a darkened hallway, "the sight of your colleagues in this condition may be a bit disturbing." She slid open a flap covering a wire-crossed window. "They all look something like this specimen. They rant and rave, and shoot out bits of magic from time to time, which could be quite dangerous if they were to escape." Howl looked into the cell which housed this wizard. As his eyes adjusted he saw hay upon the floor and a familiar winged creature, which spat and hissed when it saw him. It recognized him, apparently. Both Howl and Giulia noted this.

"So some humanity remains," the princess remarked. "Do you recognize him? He appears to know you."

"I've met him before, your majesty, no doubt of that," Howl replied. "I had several run-ins with his kind in the past weeks. But I can't tell who he once was. How do you wish me to help?"

"In whatever way you can," the princess replied. "Neither I nor Carlyle know much of magic. Returning them to their former form would be best. If that were not possible, doing anything humane that would keep them from our people…" Her voice trailed off, as she picked up the timepiece attached to her waist by a chatelaine. "I had forgotten about an engagement I have. Will you escort me back to the palace?"

Howl smirked inwardly at this princess' fashion sense. She was positively medieval, as though she'd stepped into the present from an Ingary of centuries ago.

They traveled back to the portico, where Howl climbed down first from the coach, giving his hand to the princess to aid her descent. Another carriage had just arrived. The crest it bore was familiar: a lion regaurdant on a red field. He could not place it, however. His eyes moved on to look more carefully at the coach. It hardly seemed possible, but it was even more elaborate than the royal carriage it stood beside. Howl looked approvingly at the heavy red velvet drapes in its windows, which contrasted nicely with the silver of its chassis and body. Its horses were in a lather, however and were straining at their harness, bits still in their mouths.

The princess walked up angrily to these animals, and called out for assistance. "Why have these horses not been attended to? Where is their groom?" She approached the closest of the quartet of dappled grey Percherons that dwarfed even her. It raised a very large hoof as she approached, but settled as she patted it gently and whispered to it. Her own groom hurried to attend to the thirsty animals.

"He's arrived already," the princess said to herself, frowning, "and apparently, he was in a hurry to get here." She frowned at this apparent maltreatment of such beautiful animals. Six draft horses were needed to pull a carriage of this size. No wonder they seemed in distress. To Howl she said, "Please return tomorrow at noon. We'll plan the best way to change those lizards into something less worrisome." Howl bowed to her and kissed the hand she extended. Her ring, he noticed, bore the image of a crescent moon and four stars arranged in a diamond. Another familiar crest. She princess smiled at him as Howl released her hand, and turned toward the palace. She took a deep breath, Howl noticed, as if steeling herself, before she hurried inside.

……. …….

The princess' guest stood watching this scene from the room where he waited. Giulia was quite beautiful, he saw, and looked intelligent--more so than he expected, given the fact that she was the sister of a buffoon. And she knew Howl, he noted, the smile disappearing from his face.


	7. In Which Love Deepens

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

**Chapter 7: In Which Love Deepens**

They sat in the library, Howl at one side of the large oak table, Sophie directly across. It was late, and the house was quiet, but they had lost track of time, intent as they were on their work. A large sheet of paper lay between them, with some preliminary drawings of the castle they would build together. Sophie had many ideas, Howl had found, and had delighted in describing them to him. Howl's drawing skills were quite good, and Sophie smiled as he brought to life her words. She leaned over the drawing, inspecting his work. How smiled at the vision before him, and the delightful view he had of her cleavage. The pale blue dress had been the perfect creation, he thought, quite happy with his artistry. Sophie looked up and noticed his smirk and the somewhat dangerous look in his eyes. She sat down again and felt the warmth rising to her skin. "This stupid skin!" she thought. "Why does it have to give away every thought?" She'd never had a problem with blushing before, but it seemed that whenever Howl was in the room she turned some shade of pink.

Howl reached for her hand and held it gently in his. "Sophie, why are you so afraid to accept how beautiful you are? Sophie?" She would not look at him. He stood and with a quick movement of his hand removed the table between them. The large paper they had been working on fluttered to the ground and Howl sidestepped it as he moved closer to Sophie. "You shouldn't be ashamed of the way you look, or the way you make me feel. I was just thinking about something that should be yours. Close your eyes," he said softly, leaning over her, "and trust me."

Sophie was momentarily bemused about the loss of the table (it really wasn't that large, and Howl easily could have walked around it, but he had to be dramatic, didn't he?), but she did as the magician asked. Howl reached inside his shirt and removed the pendant that he always wore, which, he'd realized, perfectly matched the color of Sophie's gown. It was only fitting that something so beautiful should be allowed to grace her. He slipped the golden chain and its pale blue teardrop over her head, gently lifting Sophie's hair as he did so. He felt the racing of her pulse as his fingers brushed against her neck. The pendant suited her perfectly, he saw. He kissed her on the cheek.

Sophie felt the warmth of Howl's lips against her skin, and the weight of the chain that rested around her neck. She opened her eyes and held the stone in her hands. "Howl. This is yours. I've never seen you not wearing it. Why are you giving it to me?"

"It _was_ mine, Sophie, but now it's yours. It was mine to keep or give as I wished, and I want you to have it. It would mean the world to me if you wore it near your heart."

"Is it sapphire? It must be worth a fortune. Howl, I can't accept this…"

Howl half-laughed, half-sighed. "I wouldn't know about that, Sophie. It was supposed to be passed down to my mother, but as she was gone, it came to me instead." He ran a hand through his thick black hair. "Sophie, I'm new to this, but it seems to me that a part of love is _being_ loved. It's not just you giving to me, you loving me, you saving me. I want to do the same for you, and I want you to be happy to be loved by me. To receive _willingly_. This necklace is for you because I love you, Sophie. By the gods, I love you, and I want you to never stop thinking of me. I want you to have something that is very special to me, that's been near to me, so that whenever you see it, or feel it against you, you think of how much I love you." Howl lifted Sophie's chin so that he could look into her eyes. "Why are you so unwilling to let me love you?"

"I'm not!" Sophie cried indignantly, but then realized that Howl's words were true. Her eyes welled with tears. "Howl, I'm sorry, I guess I am. It's just that…" She paused for a moment, trying to understand her feelings. "It's just that this frightens me. I've never loved someone the way I love you. You intoxicate me, and I'm afraid of what I might do when you touch me."

"Sophie. Darling love. We're both new at this. And I'm as scared as you are. Here." He placed her hand on his chest. She felt the pounding of his heart. "This all isn't passion, you know. You scare the daylights out of me."

This elicited a small smile, and Sophie buried her face in Howl's shirt. There was no place she would rather be than here, with him. And it wasn't so frightening, really, once she took a deep breath and exhaled. She looked up at her handsome sorcerer. "All right, then. We'll do this together. Thank you. I'll wear this always, next to my heart. But I don't have anything for you, Howl."

"What do I need? I have you, Sophie."

With that, he kissed her. It was a soft and gentle kiss at first, but he felt her respond to him as she hadn't previously. Howl reveled in this for a moment, and deepened the kiss, then broke away. "It's late. Shall I walk you back to your room?"

They walked down the several hallways, arm in arm. At her door, Howl leaned in again and kissed his Sophie gently. Again she responded to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him closer. Howl ran his hands up her back, and felt… whalebone. And strong, thick fabric. He longed to touch her skin. His lips moved to her jaw line, to her neck and collarbone. She gasped, but did not pull away from him. Howl could feel her heart pounding as she reacted to his touch, her breathing slightly ragged, labored, even.

She collapsed in his arms. He was too surprised to catch her. She slid out of his hands, knocking her head against the door knob. She lay crumpled on the floor.

"Damn corset!" Howl swore to himself as he dropped to her side. Her head wasn't bleeding and she was still breathing, but gently rubbing her wrists and even tapping her cheeks was doing nothing to bring her round. Howl gently picked her up and carried her inside her chamber. He laid Sophie on the bed, and hurried to the bathroom, dumping out drawers and emptying the cabinet in a hurried search for _sal ammoniac _ or some other volatile fragrance that might help her come to. He found nothing useful, and quickly returned to her bed. He rolled the unconscious Sophie onto her side. He swiftly undid the many fabric-covered buttons that marched in a row down her back (he was fairly skilled at this particular task) and exposed her corset. The laces would take too much time, he realized, rolling her onto her back instead. He pulled the dress' bodice down and unfastened the busk running down the front of the corset, exposing the smooth cotton chemise underneath. Finally, she began to breathe more deeply.

She'd be angry at him, Howl realized, but what was he to do? He quickly searched the wardrobe for a blanket and covered her, and ran into the bathroom to moisten a washcloth. He laid the cloth on the rising knot on her forehead, rubbed her wrists and was greatly relieved when he saw her eyelids flicker.

"Howl, what happened?" She looked at him and closed her eyes again. "I feel dizzy."

"Lie, back then. Don't move, and it will pass." Howl looked at her with concern. You took a fall, darling. Why did you have your corset laced so tightly?"

"My corset?" She colored. She was breathing so easily, she realized. Had Howl…? She bolted up in bed, cheeks aflame. Then she felt faint again and noticed Howl gently pushing her back into the pillow.

"Easy," he said. "Don't move for a while."

"What happened?" she asked again.

Howl looked at her carefully. Was she perseverating? He poured water from the etched glass container on her nightstand into the glass that served as its lid. With a few words, the water was chilled almost to freezing. Howl took the cloth that had slipped from her forehead and dipped it into the almost-ice. He laid it on her bruise, now the size of a small egg, and repeated his instructions that she must not move.

"Calcifer," he said, noticing for the first time the demon that hovered in the empty fireplace, "Keep an eye on her. I'll be back in a moment." "Why didn't he do anything to help?" Howl asked himself as he hurried to the library.

"He was a perfect gentleman, you know," said the demon to Sophie, who showed signs of alertness now. "He's really not as bad as you think. He had plenty of time to gawk at you, Soph, and he didn't. Not once! I know, it's hard to believe! You're pretty easy on the eyes..."

Sophie did not seem to hear. She sat up slowly, ignoring Howl's instructions, and clung to the bedstead as dizziness overcame her again. In a moment it passed. "I'll have nothing to wear tomorrow if I ruin this dress," she thought, and then giggled uncharacteristically at the silliness of the thought. Nonetheless, she removed the garment and corset, high-buttoned boots and stockings, and stood carefully, grasping the post at the head of the bed. "What happened in here?" she wondered, seeing the contents of the wardrobe dumped on the floor. She walked slowly to the bathroom and gasped at the devastation therein. "How long was I out?" she wondered. Could he really create a mess of this scale in mere minutes?

Sophie returned to her bed just as Howl entered the room, book in hand. "I see you took my instructions very seriously." He frowned. "Calcifer, I told you to keep an eye on her! What is she doing out of bed?"

"I did, kinda. She's still here, isn't she? Do you really think she'd listen to me if I told her to stay in bed? Get real, Howl." Howl's expression did not change for the better. "Well, see you kids tomorrow. I've got a date." Calcifer rushed up the chimney and into the night.

Howl sighed in resignation. How was it that he surrounded himself with beings even more stubborn than he? "Sophie, I'm going to stay with you for a while, just to make sure you are okay. I thought I might read to you to pass the time." A candle appeared in his hands. He lit it with a breath and held it to her eyes, finding that her pupils did constrict normally. "A good sign," he thought, and relaxed perceptibly.

He pulled a chair to her side, adjusted the lamp mounted by her bed, and settled himself for a long evening. He'd start at the beginning and see how long he could keep her awake. He was less worried than he'd been just minutes before, however. She was no longer confused and furthermore, wasn't as embarrassed as he'd feared.

"A Midsommer Night's Dreame," Howl began, "by William Shakespeare. Actus primus. Enter Theseus, Hippolita, with others."

Sophie relaxed, and listened to the story unfold. What a lovely reading voice her Howl had, and what a lovely story this was. She fell asleep, minutes into act two with a beatific smile upon her face. Howl leaned over her, kissed her gently, and returned to his chair. He'd had a busy day planned for tomorrow, and he hadn't yet begun to struggle with the problem of changing Suliman's minions back to human form. But Howl couldn't think of anything he'd rather do right now than sit here by Sophie's side. Well, maybe one or two things…but both involved Sophie. An involuntary smile crossed his face. He'd stay with her tonight, and wake her every few hours, just to be sure she was okay. Howl picked up the book, and resumed reading, luxuriating in the nearness of his true love.


	8. In Which Sophie Gets Angry Again

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

**Chapter 8: In Which Sophie Gets Angry Again**

Sophie awoke to a throbbing headache, and a knocking at the door. It was quite bright outside, at least 10 a.m. by her estimate. Where was Howl? The door opened slowly and she saw Markl's face peering round it. He entered, laden with a heavy tray, Emma on his heels. Heen rushed in, nearly knocking Markl down in his haste to reach Sophie's bed. He spun a quick circle, and settled on Sophie's feet.

"Sophie?" Markl asked. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, my head hurts, but I'm okay." She smiled brightly at the boy. He'd insisted on carrying the tray, she guessed.

"Howl showed me how to make a willow-bark tea. He thought your head might hurt. He said to make sure to eat something with it." Markl handed her a steaming mug, and Sophie sipped its contents gratefully despite its acidity.

Markl climbed up beside her and hugged her, then fairly bounced as he shared his news. Sophie set the mug down and hugged him back. "He told us you have to stay in bed today! It's a beautiful day, Sophie, and Granny Witch is taking me to the zoo. I wish you could come. There are tigers, Sophie! I've never seen a tiger before! I can't wait!"

Emma pulled Markl off Sophie, as she could see Sophie still wasn't quite herself. She looked in Sophie's eyes, and inspected the knot on Sophie's head, remembering some of the basic first aid she'd learned long ago as a student sorceress.

Was Emma's memory returning? She seemed so lucid lately, and more fit, too, Sophie thought. She was certainly good company for Markl. She missed them both, she realized.

"We'll be off now, Sophie. Noel or one of the other servants will look in on you from time to time. Make sure you rest, dear." Emma kissed her on the forehead, Markl ran back and hugged her, and they were gone.

Sophie lay still for a moment, as a feeling of indignation slowly grew in her. Stay in bed! Just who did that wizard think he was? She climbed out of bed, barely needing to grab the post for support, and walked to the chair where she thought she'd draped her clothes the night before. They weren't there, and stranger still, the room was tidy. She remembered it being in a state of total chaos the night before. Had Howl actually cleaned up after himself?

"Will wonders never cease," Sophie said aloud, and followed this with an old lady's harrumph. To the wardrobe then. But it was empty. Where were her clothes? Even her old blue dress was missing. Her corset, her petticoats, everything. There was a bureau in the room, which had stood empty until now, given the relatively meager selection of clothes she owned. Perhaps he'd put her things there. She pulled open each drawer to find it empty, except for the last. It held a beautifully wrapped package, with a short note:_ If you really need something different to wear, try this. –H._

Sophie was quite angry now. She had half a mind to throw the package in the grate and have a pretty little fire to eat her breakfast by. She sat down instead, with a thump and a scowl, and unwrapped the package. A lovely peignoir and matching robe were inside, in the pale yellow shade that suited her so well. The man did have impeccable taste, she'd grant him that. She admired the fine stitches and detailed embroidery, then stopped herself and replaced the package inside the drawer. She certainly wasn't going to wear it, she thought, no matter how beautiful it was. She could take care of herself and make her own decisions. Howl had a nerve forcing her in this way. She wasn't dressed appropriately to wander the house, let alone go outside. She guessed the servants would have no idea where her clothes were, and she was not about to humiliate herself by asking. She climbed back in bed, and grabbed the leather bound-book that sat on the night table. She might as well read. She had nothing else to do. She sighed. He hadn't even said "goodbye."

………… …………

Howl sat in a library he remembered well, with stacks of musty books around him. He'd made an early start of this, as he had much to do before his meeting with the princess. It was slow going. If the wizards' transformation had been Suliman's work, they would have reverted to human form upon her death. He wondered about his former mentor. Why had she spent so much time seeking out Howl and his nascent family? Why had he been so important to her that she'd start a war to get control of him? He had no answer to that. But he owed her a lot, he realized. He'd learned discipline and control through her lessons and she'd been patient with him, all things considered. She'd done some horrible things, Howl argued with himself, but there must have been some reason. Surely someone could not be motivated solely by the lure of power. No one could be that base. She certainly didn't deserve to die the way she had, and he still shuddered to think that it had been his doing. What penance would he need to do to wash away the guilt he felt?

Well, the lizards were a start. If Suliman had not been involved (and he could think of no one else with powers great enough to accomplish such a mass transformation), the lizards must have used the powers of individual demons. Howl almost laughed to think that so many wizards were in the relationship that had caused his own expulsion. But it really wasn't funny. They had clearly lost their humanity.

Howl had no problem entering the Academy that morning, as he'd flashed his blinding smile and shone the spotlight of his attention on the beautiful young lady who manned the entry. The rare books section of the library was not off limits to him, for similar reasons. He blew dust from a disused book and slowly turned its pages. He knew it wasn't possible to bring the transformed back to human form once they'd fully lost their humanity. The lizards seemed past the point of return, and who knew what human element they'd traded for their powers, or where the demons might be, for that matter. But here was a spell that might help. He memorized it, then slammed the book shut, surprising the librarian that hovered nearby. He hurried out of the building, already late for his appointment.

……… ………..

Princess Giulia had set up a target on the grassy lawn that extended behind the palace. Or rather, some manservant did. She was not allowed to do anything for herself, it seemed. Howl was late, but she did not mind. She'd had no time to practice her archery and it brought her peace of mind to do so. This Justin, she thought. He'd seemed nice enough, but he wasn't her type. Really, no one was. She'd decided long ago that a single, independent life was what she wanted, and had pleaded for months to be allowed to join the order. She had loved it there. The quiet, the time allotted to building her strengths and skills, the lack of pretense--it was completely unlike this place. Justin was nice. He'd make a wonderful husband for someone, she thought. But not her. Sadly, the choice was not hers. The press had gone too far in their claims of assassination, and things needed to be put right with Strangia. A linking of their royal families would do the trick. Her advisors were unanimous on this. She never thought she'd be married, let alone to this man. They had little in common. He seemed to like being a prince. He was fine-boned and genteel, and seemed to want a typical princess for his bride. Was he as unhappy as she was about this decision? Well, there was nothing to do. She turned to the target and shot cleanly.

"The Order of Artemis. I should have guessed. I thought your ring looked familiar." Howl's voice surprised her, and she turned to him with a smile.

"Yes. I never planned to return here. Let's walk. Have you come up with a plan?"

"Yes," said Howl. He described it as they walked the expanse of lawn. He noticed that the skies were turning dark. "If that rain had come only days before," he thought ruefully. They turned onto a path and then into a garden. Howl stopped short. "Has this been replanted already?" he asked.

"What do you mean? These roses have been here for years. This one is named for my mother." Giulia turned and looked the garden over. One thing is different though. There used to be gravel here. I'm sure of it. This will be a mess once the rains start."

Howl could not believe his ears. "Your majesty, I hope you'll forgive me asking, but where did your brother and Suliman die? The answer is important to my plan."

"In the munitions shed." The princess pointed. "Over there. We were quite lucky, it seems. The damage would have been worse, except many of the bombs were defective. They found many unexploded shells in the wreckage. They think a cigarette caused it, you know." She shook her head at her brother's foolishness.

Howl turned away just then, and a look of sheer joy and illumination crossed his face. He did his best to control it, then turned back to the princess.

I have some obligations to tend to, your majesty, but I can begin working on transforming the lizards in two days time. Will that be acceptable?

"Very," said Giulia. They walked back to the palace. "Howl, you are different from what I had heard. For years, until I left for the convent, I heard stories about you and your rakish ways. But you aren't that way at all. Tell me, what changed?"

"Well," said Howl, "I met someone who completely changed my life. She saved me, literally, and I'm a different person now." His face lit up as he spoke. The princess noticed this.

"She must be quite special."

"Yes," Howl said, turning to the princess. He laughed. "I've tried several times to ask for her hand, but something has interfered every time."

Giulia smiled. She liked this man. There was no pretense to him—she could tell he meant every word he spoke about his love. "Perhaps you ought to try harder. Does she know how you feel?"

"I think so. But she doesn't see, yet, just how special she is. I'm trying to change that."

They arrived at the target, where the princess had set her bow and quiver. Howl bowed, kissed her hand, and departed. The princess gathered her things and returned to the palace. It was nice to see real love, she thought. She mounted the stairs to ready for dinner with Prince Justin.


	9. In Which Things Do Not Go As Planned

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

**Chapter 9: In Which Things Do Not Go As Howl Planned**

Sophie heard Howl outside her room, and decided she was still angry. She'd lain in bed all day, and while it was true that she'd slept most of that time, it wasn't fair for him to have made that decision for her. She wasn't a child. She'd been four times his age at one point and seemed to have acquired some of the wisdom that came with that age. Being old had taught her many things. She was no longer one to shrink back or hope that someone else would speak up for her. She thought that Howl had known that about her, and even liked that about her.

She heard a light knock on her door, and his handsome tenor. "Sophie? May I come in?"

"No, Howl." It hurt to say those words, but she wasn't ready to have it out with him. And the timing of this argument was something she _could_ control. "I'm tired," she explained. "I'll see you in the morning."

Howl must have heard something in her voice, because he wouldn't take no for an answer. Or maybe it was just that immense stubborn streak of his. "Sophie!" he pleaded, with that certain laugh in his voice. "What did I do? Please, I need to talk with you!"

Could he really not see that he'd done something wrong? She sat up in bed, and almost climbed out to give him a piece of her mind. Then she saw what she was wearing. Just her chemise. She wouldn't go to the door in that, and she was not about to change into the gown and robe he had left her, no matter how lovely it was. He wasn't going to go away, she realized.

"Howl," she sighed. "Come in, then."

Howl opened the door, a look of bewilderment on his face.

"Well?" Sophie asked, in not the most pleasant tone.

"Well… Sophie, what did I do to make you so angry with me?"

"Where are my clothes, Howl?"

Howl suppressed a smile. Her clothes—he'd forgotten about that. It really had seemed like a good idea at the time. She was so stubborn, after all, and she _had_ needed to rest. He hadn't thought she'd react so poorly, though. It was obvious that she was close to tears.

"I'm sorry, Sophie. I didn't think you'd be upset. Well, not very upset."

Sophie looked at him in utter disbelief. "Howl. How would you feel if I'd done that to you? Made some decision about whether or not you could leave your room today. Taken your clothes away."

Howl thought about this. "I'd just make some more," he said finally.

"Right. My point exactly." She sank into the pillows and turned her back to him.

Howl leaned over her and touched her shoulder. "Sophie," he whispered.

"Great and powerful wizard," he heard her mutter, and then he felt her body begin to tremble. She was crying. He'd climb in next to her, he thought, and comfort her. But then he realized that would only make things worse.

"I'm so sorry, Sophie. Forgive me. Damn it, Sophie, I didn't mean to hurt you."

She was still crying, he knew, although he couldn't see her face. He moved her quicksilver hair aside and kissed her cheek, wet and salty with tears. "I love you, Sophie."

He turned and left the room.

…………. ………

Howl went to the place where he thought best. He leaned back against cool, smooth marble and considered what had gone wrong. He sighed, and sank a bit deeper into the warm, scented water. How could such a promising day end up so poorly, he wondered. He had been elated when he had discovered that he hadn't killed the king and Suliman. He had been ebullient, and so eager to share this news with Sophie. She didn't love a killer after all. He wouldn't be hanged, or go to prison. They wouldn't have to run. He had wanted to celebrate, to dress her up in finery and dance with her all night. Or sit together with her quietly, if that was what she wanted. And then ask her to marry him.

But he'd ruined it. It was clear he'd hurt her deeply, and he struggled to understand. He tried very hard to see things through her eyes, to walk in her shoes, as they said on the western coast. Sophie's town was still gone, her family still missing. She'd spent weeks as an old crone, then fallen for a bird-man, and lived through a bombing. She'd brought him back to life. She'd been nothing but kind and loving through all of this, and she'd relied on her strong will to carry herself and her family through it. Her family. He smiled for a moment as he considered those words.

Then, after all of this, Howl realized, he'd confined her to a room in a strange home, while everyone else (even Calcifer) was free to come and go. Howl considered how much he loved his freedom and saw that Sophie was just like him.

How could he be so stupid? How could she _not_ be angry? How could he fix this?

………. ……..

Sophie wiped her last tear, and turned down the light. Things would be better in the morning. They always were. But she couldn't sleep. Her mind was wide awake after the hours spent sleeping earlier in the day. She adjusted the lamp again, rearranged her pillows and found the book that Howl had read from last night. Between naps today she'd managed to make her way through the play he'd started, and now she turned to the next. "'Romeo and Juliet.' A love story, I hope." She adjusted her blanket and began to read.

Such beautiful language! And what a love they shared. If it weren't for miscommunication… Sophie turned the page and moved a scrap of paper that had lain between the leaves. "Where will I find my Juliet?" the note read.

Sophie looked at it closely. It was in Howl's writing, almost. It was neater, and more curved, more childish. "He really did wait for me. All those years." She pressed the paper to her lips, then placed it under her pillow.

She wasn't angry anymore, she realized. He _was_ new to this, in many ways even newer than she was. She kept forgetting. She needed to make things right.

Sophie dressed in the peignoir and robe Howl had given her that morning. A chemise would not be appropriate for wandering the halls, and maybe if he saw her in this he would see she wasn't angry. She knocked gently on his door. "Howl?" No answer. "Howl? I'm coming in." She entered his room and saw that he wasn't there. "I guess I'll talk to him tomorrow," she said aloud, and turned to leave.

"No. Stay." His hair was wet, and he was wrapped in a shimmering blue dressing gown. He truly took her breath away. "Sophie. Please forgive me. I wasn't thinking—" He didn't finish, for she covered his lips with her own, and grasped him tightly.

"Oh, Howl!" she said finally. "I don't want to be angry with you. I'm so sorry." She was crying again, and this time Howl kissed away every tear.

"Sophie, I never realized how similar we are. You aren't a caged bird. You would suffocate without your freedom. I didn't really understand that until tonight. I was so caught up with the idea of loving you and protecting you that I really didn't see how protecting you might hurt you." His voice was filled with emotion. "You scared me last night, you know. You weren't quite yourself when you came to, and I knew you needed to rest. And I knew you wouldn't if I told you to."

"You have a point there, Howl. But I might have if you'd explained."

"Well, I won't make that mistake again, love." He drew her close again, and nuzzled her neck. He ran his hands up her back, which, wonderfully, was whalebone free. "Will you stay with me tonight? I don't think I can bear to be apart from you."

He saw a familiar fear creep into her eyes. "Darling. I am not the horrible Howl you heard about. I already promised you, remember? Please don't be afraid of me."

"Yes, Howl." She paused. "I trust you." She hid her face against his shoulder, and sighed contentedly.

"One more request, love."

"Yes?"

"Look at me." Her chocolate eyes met his pale blue ones.

"Howl?"

"Will you be my wife?"

"Howl! Oh, yes! Yes, yes! A million times yes."


	10. In Which There Is Pillow Talk

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

_Thank you to everyone who inquired about my health. I am home from the hospital/ "skilled care facility" after 2 ½ weeks. I fell outside of a coffee shop, and landed pretty strangely, managing to dislocate my shoulder (twice) and break my tibia and fibula. A bone graft, plate and some screws and I am back in commission, although I won't be able to drive for months. After things settled down a bit, I was able to do a lot of thinking about this story and managed to write a lot of it in my head as I battled boredom (intense, sheer boredom). I'll be posting it as I write it in the days to come and I hope you all will enjoy. A while back I asked what direction people would like this story to take, and it looked like there were two camps—those who would like the story to stay sweet and rated T, and those who would like it to become more adult. Perhaps as a result of boredom, I have written two fairly citrusy chapters (one more so than the other) and to keep this readable to all and offensive to none, I have decided to separate the story into separate substories, so the more racy parts can be safely skipped over. So you will notice this story is now headed part one; the lemony chapter will be part two; etc. Each will be clearly labeled, so please pay attention if you don't want to read about Howl and Sophie's bedroom activities. This chapter (as a continuation of part 1) is rated T. _

**Chapter 10: In Which There Is Pillow Talk**

They had lain in bed together and talked well into the night. Howl had shared his news of finding the rose garden intact and what this most likely meant and Sophie saw a relief and joy in his eyes. Now they could start their life together. Howl rose from the bed and rummaged through his wardrobe. After creating considerable havoc in that small space, he returned to the bed, and pulled his Sophie close to him.

"I'd like to ask you again more properly. You know, I've tried several times in the past few days and something always interrupted us—the palace exploding, you fainting and hitting your head, you know. I wanted the moment to be one you would always remember fondly, and I really don't think I've achieved that."

Howl removed a velvet box he had hidden in his robe. "Sophie, my darling, will you marry me, and make me the happiest man on Earth?"

Sophie opened the small box and saw a ring that suited her perfectly. It was not showy nor overly modest. It consisted solely of two intertwining bands of platinum that crossed each other and moved back on themselves again and again to form a fluid, serpentine knot. "Yes, Howl. How could I not marry you? You didn't need to ask again. I couldn't imagine a more romantic moment than when you asked the first time." She turned the ring to follow its interlocking, never-ending strands of starlight. "This signifies our life together, doesn't it?"

"It shows that I will never leave you, that I will never stop loving you, that I will stay by your side no matter what."

Howl slipped the ring onto her finger, and looked happier than Sophie had ever seen him.

"But what about you? I feel all these things about you, Horrible Howl, and I'd like the world to know it."

Howl laughed merrily. "I knew you'd say that! Actually, I made two rings."

He gave her the second box, and she quickly slipped the mate to her ring onto Howl's elegant finger. "How I am so lucky?" Sophie breathed.

"I was just thinking the same thing." A pillow crashed down on Howl's head. "About me, Sophie! About me!" They rough-housed a bit in the bed, until feathers and goose down filled the air, and the couple found themselves locked in a passionate embrace. Howl came to an unfortunate conclusion. He had said he needed her with him in the bed, and he did, but it would not be possible to do so and keep his promise to her.

"Howl. Howl? Are you listening? What are you thinking about?"

Howl turned to look at Sophie, who seemed just a bit impatient with his preoccupation. He did not think she would react well to a statement that forced her out of his bed, especially as she would want to know his reason for doing so. She might feel pressured to become intimate with him, and Howl did not want her to feel this way. He did not want her to think that he was controlled like an animal by his physical desires. He could wait for her. It just didn't seem possible with her so close to him.

Sophie pulled a feather from a pillow and tickled Howl with it. "Howl, I said all of these feathers remind me of how wonderful it felt to hold you when you were part bird. Is that lost to you now that you've broken from Calcifer?"

"Mmm. Not sure. Close your eyes, Sophie." She did and he found that he could indeed morph into any bird form he chose, and more importantly, return almost instantly to human form. He selected the form she had just spoken of—the one that days before he had found most hideous. Only Sophie would find something to love in this grotesque amalgamation of human and avian, he thought. "Okay. Open them."

A bright smile lit Sophie's face as she looked at her dark angel, his cornflower blue eyes peering out rather timidly from a profusion of black feathers. She threw herself into his arms and buried her face in the iridescent blackness that covered his chest. She breathed deeply and inhaled the commingled scents of lavender, feathers, and Howl. Howl curved his wings to form a tent around her, and she quickly fell asleep in his soft embrace.

Howl smiled at this serendipitous turn of events. As a bird, he didn't have the passion (or anatomy) of his human form, only the more abstract idea of his love for her. They would be able to sleep peacefully, and he would keep his promise to her.

………………….

Justin lay in a regal bed and considered his surroundings. It was about 4 a.m., he guessed, and his day would be starting soon. His room was still quite dark, however, due to the thickness of the white damask curtains and bed hangings. A soft pattering of rain was barely audible through these coverings. The palace at Kingsbury was easily as beautiful as his family's in Strangia, and it was clear that they had given Justin their most impressive set of rooms for his stay at the palace. Justin pulled back a bed curtain and lit the lamp at his bedside, then settled in the pillows that lay against the deeply quilted and gold-couched headboard.

He wasn't sure what to think of Giulia, or of his situation. Giulia was a proud, intelligent woman—that much was clearly evident—but Justin had little indication of her feelings surrounding their upcoming marriage. She spoke in concise, frank sentences, so different from the courtly language he was used to. This same type of language was used in Giulia's own court, so the difference he'd noted did not appear to be a cultural one.

Their conversations—on the day he'd arrived and tonight at dinner-- had been stilted, as might be expected for two people who were strangers yet newly betrothed. But there seemed to be something more at play here. Justin had a distinct feeling that he was intruding on Giulia.

When Justin had returned home to Strangia, with a bounce in his step and a heart filled with his feelings for Sophie, he had immediately approached his father, the king, with a request to end the war immediately and another to return as soon as possible to Ingary. His father immediately arranged for the commencement of peace talks, but then the deaths of the king of Ingary and his sorceress had occurred, the Ingarian press had gone crazy, and his own advisors warned him to proceed cautiously. Strangia's economy had been less severely impacted than Ingary's, as most of the fighting and destruction had occurred in Ingary, but Strangia could ill afford a second war. The king therefore dispatched his youngest son, Justin, to return as royal ambassador, with the instructions that a liaison between the two states might be the easiest way to heal the wounds between them.

Giulia's advisors had been quick to see the wisdom of King Benedict's plan. Despite the fact that there had never been a real argument between Ingary and Strangia (the state of Ingary had not kidnapped Justin, after all), public perception was quite different. A symbolic joining of the two nations, complete with the pomp and grandeur of a royal wedding would do much to make the two nations forget the unfortunate war. Justin was twentieth in line to the throne of Strangia: therefore the wedding would do little to advance Strangian power in Ingary, but much to show a linkage between the two nations.

So here Justin was in Ingary, having proposed marriage first to Giulia's advisors, then to the woman herself. This was probably not what Giulia had in mind when she considered the idea of matrimony, Justin thought. Even Justin, raised in a household where his father had a succession of mistresses, had harbored a desire to marry for love. His father, the king had wed for political reasons himself, and his wife was clearly not in love with him, and repeated this fact fairly often during Justin's childhood.

Sophie! Justin had hoped things would be different—that he would bring Sophie back to Strangia as his wife, where they would lead an exceedingly comfortable life among the highest nobility of the land. Justin and Sophie, Prince and Princess of Melbourne, Duke and Duchess of Arpeggia, would be the highlight of every ball and masquerade and much loved by the populace of Strangia. They would have a small but beautiful family together and be true to each other.

"Your true love," the witch had said. Justin had fallen for Sophie from the minute she, swearing, had wrenched him from the shrub where he had been lodged. Rules of chivalry had dictated that he should follow her and see to her safety and Justin had gladly done so. He could clearly see that Sophie, like he, was enchanted. How strange to encounter another! In Strangia, magic was not permitted. Justin now agreed fully with this section of the legal code. Magic was more trouble than it was worth, and it was clear that it had the great potential to ruin lives on both a small scale (as he and Sophie clearly exemplified) and on a large scale (as the lives of countless Strangian soldiers demonstrated.)

Sophie and Giulia. Justin compared them mentally, sizing up the attributes of each. Sophie was so gentle, kind to everyone she met. At times she had been irascible, true, but who wouldn't have been in her situation? She was so easy to read—one needn't guess to know how she was feeling—it was written clear as day on her face. Giulia, on the other hand, was a closed book. She was imperious, as would befit a woman of her position, but underneath that veneer, Justin could see nothing. He had no doubt that it would take ages to figure out what made her tick. Sophie and Giulia were both beautiful, Justin saw, although they were so very different. The defining attribute of Sophie was softness. She was fragile and petite, someone in need of protection. Giulia, on the other hand was defined by cold, severe lines and the hardness of independence. How could his true love be so different than his betrothed?

What could he do, Justin wondered. What type of life would he have with Giulia? He had hated the relationship his father had with his mother—so cold and devoid of any emotion except for a simmering disgust on the part of his mother and a feeling of having given up on the part of his father. Justin had always faulted his father for not trying harder with his mother, and he had faulted him for the series of women he had brought into the palace. Now he saw that there might have been more to it than he realized. Everyone had the right to love and be loved. And so did he, Justin concluded. He wouldn't give up on Giulia, yet, though. Perhaps there might be more than one true love for a person.

Justin rose and dressed in the riding outfit he'd selected for the day. Giulia had seemed excited at the prospect of a day in the woods, hunting. It was good that they shared this interest, although hunting was an unusual pastime for a woman, even a princess. Justin rang for his valet to collect his assortment of rifles, and smiled at the prospect of getting to know Giulia better.


	11. A Frank Conversation

**C_hapter 11 A Frank Conversation_**

**_This is a placeholder for Chapter 11._**

**_That chapter is rated M, and I have therefore decided to house it separately, so as not to offend those who are looking for a non-explicit story. You can access this part of the story by going to my author page. This chapter can be found in "A Year in the Life, Part 2," and will be labeled "A Frank Conversation."_**

_**I have done my best not to advance the plot in this chapter, so that those who choose to skip it will not be lost when they skip to the next chapter. However, the chapter does spend some time looking at Howl's history. Ah, well!**_

_**--sakura**_

_**Chapter 12 appears next. Click to move on!**_


	12. In Which a Friend Returns

**Chapter 12 In Which A Friend Reappears**

Markl reacted to the news of Howl and Sophie's engagement as you might expect for an eight-year-old boy. He danced with glee, jumped up and down and crowed. "Will I be able to wear long pants to the wedding? Does this mean you'll be having a baby, Sophie? This is so exciting!" He veered off and ran from the room laughing. "I'm going to be a brother! Sophie will be my mom!"

Emma was pleased, as well. "When will the wedding be, dearie?" She quickly rose and surprised Sophie and Howl with her agility as she embraced them both with a heartfelt hug.

"Emma," you certainly are looking better," Howl said with a questioning gleam in his eye.

"Yes. Too bad there are no strapping young men around here—apart from you, that is." She winked and gave Howl a tap on the behind as he walked past.

"Emma! That's enough! Will you help me begin plans for the wedding?"

"Sophie, are there any cigars in this house? I really could use a good smoke. Cigars are customary with announcements of this type, you know," Emma wandered off towards the men's salon in search of tobacco, or a knowledgeable servant.

"Before starting the wedding plans, Sophie, I'd like to get us settled in the castle. I thought we might spend the morning finalizing the plans, and if Calcifer graces us with his presence, construct it this afternoon."

Sophie turned towards Howl in delight. "Oh, I'd love to be back at home!"

Howl smiled at her words. It was so like Sophie to prefer his modest castle to the opulence surrounding them. "Are you sure you'll be able to survive without a cleaning lady? You really seem to have gotten a bit soft lately."

Sophie grabbed his hand and dragged Howl off to the library. "You really are incorrigible, Mr. Jenkins."

"Just the way you like me, darling."

……………….

The planning took all morning and then some, but by mid-afternoon, they were ready to build the castle anew. However, Calcifer was nowhere to be found.

"This isn't something I can do by myself. I really miss that old flame head. We really were quite a team."

"Flame head! Who are you calling flame head? I'll have you know I am composed of the eternal lights of the heavens." Calcifer flared up in the library's fireplace grate.

"Where have you been? We've missed you so much!"

"Yeah, right. Sophie, do you ever sleep in your own bed? I've stopped in at least ten times over the past few days and your bed has been completely the same each and every time. Every fold, every wrinkle. I even singed your pillowcase to see if you would notice."

"Well, Calcifer, if you really are going to chaperone, I'll be there tonight. Promise."

For some reason this appeared to please the demon. He sparkled at bit, perhaps at the anticipation of spending some time with Sophie. "I won't be in until 10, though. I have a date."

"A date? Fire demons court each other? I thought your type was too plain spoken for that."

"Well, Howl, I guess I must have picked up something from you after all those years being privy to your most perverted thoughts."

Howl chose to ignore this affront to his morality. "So, Calcifer, do you think you can help? Sophie really wants to get back home and I think you'll admit, she deserves only the best."

"Yeah, you're right about that. Soph, I really would do anything for you. But Howl, a lawn? Why would a moving castle need a backyard?" He swooped around the plans, which crackled when he came a bit too close. "And why on earth would you need—"

Howl hurriedly shushed the demon and turned to smile brightly at Sophie, like a child hiding a secret from a school marm. "Well, shall we be off? I'd estimate we have about an hour of prep work at the site, and the spell itself will take about 20 minutes—well, maybe a bit longer since we are no longer linked. Plenty of time to be done before sunset, don't you think, Cal? Then you won't be late for your date…"

Calcifer seemed to become a bit melty at those last few words, but solidified when Sophie broke in. "Actually, Howl, I have an errand to run. Could you come back for me in an hour?"

She hurried out of the library, and with a quick word to Emma, set off into Kingsbury.

……………………..

Luscious silks flowed through her hands as Sophie inspected the very finest fabric in Kingsbury's finest dry goods emporium. A green, she thought, would look nice on all three of them. It would complement Howl's pale skin, and both Markl and Sophie's hair. She settled quickly on a bottle-green silk satin fabric which iridesced slightly as she ran her hand over it.

After purchasing twenty yards and notions to match, as well as an inky velveteen, Sophie strolled out of the store and stepped off the wooden sidewalk to be neatly clipped by a most officious-looking coach.

A smartly-dressed young man disembarked, somewhat shaken and terribly concerned for the grey-haired woman who was just rising to her feet. He hurried over to help. Hopefully, she wasn't hurt. She turned and the light danced off her hair.

"Sophie? Is it really you?"

Her smile made the horrible day he had just endured worthwhile.

"Turnip? I mean, your highness? What are you doing in Kingsbury?"

"Please, Sophie, call me Justin. We are too close friends for such formalities. Come, let me take you home. Are you hurt? You look like you need a rest." The beautiful blue dress she wore was mud-spattered, he saw. He'd need to see to that. But even mud-spattered she was a vision to him. He wished there was a way he could keep her with him for just a bit longer.

The coach traveled up broad Kingsbury streets as Justin and Sophie reacquainted themselves.

"You're engaged to Princess Giulia? How wonderful! Is she smart? Beautiful? Are you in love?"

"Didn't Howl tell you this? Not about the wedding—that hasn't been announced yet—but about Giulia. They know each other."

"Oh. I didn't realize that. Well, why don't you tell me? She is _your_ fiancée, after all."

"Yes, Sophie, she is beautiful, but nowhere as beautiful as you. I had hoped to come back here and ask for your hand, but romance almost never works out for royals." He sighed.

Sophie didn't have the heart to tell Justin of her engagement or of her complete and total happiness. The carriage pulled up in front of Octavius' residence, and Sophie kissed Justin on the cheek.

"Sophie, I'll be returning to Strangia for a while. Apparently protocol requires that the groom be out of the country during the preparations for this type of wedding. It would do my heart good if you'd agree to spend some time with me. Howl is welcome too, of course. I'd love to show you my country."

"That would be very nice, Justin. I'll see what Howl thinks."

The carriage pulled away and Justin laid his head in his hands. There was no comparing Giulia and Sophie. He must have her.

………… …………..

Justin's carriage journeyed on, toward Kingsford, the nearest deepwater port. Although the town had been bombed to embers just weeks before, reconstruction was well underway, and a portion of the port had been re-erected. Justin scanned the devastation around him, and wondered what his father and the king of Ingary had been thinking to unleash such carnage. Ingary had been lucky, though, that the war had ended so quickly. They were ignorant of the strides in technology made by Strangia in recent years, but would have learned of this in many different and painful ways, had the war continued. Fifty years earlier, at the height of the magical revolution in Ingary, Strangia had embarked on a far different course. They'd embraced science, a different sort of magic, and as a result, their culture had changed dramatically. Things happened more quickly in Strangia, and people lived longer, easier lives. Yes, there was great poverty as a result of rapid mechanization, but Justin's father constantly sought ways to ease the pain of this newly created underclass, to give them bread and circus, so to speak. Justin would be glad to return home to this land of reason and sanity.

His ship awaited him, a state of the art diesel-powered behemoth, and a retinue of servants and advisors surrounded Justin as he left his carriage. Justin ignored them, as best he could. Only one thing about this day had been good, and he wanted to be alone to savor the memory.

He settled in his stateroom, turned on an electrified light, and settled on his bed. Eyes closed, he thought of Sophie and her quiet beauty, the way she'd been genuinely glad to see him after recovering from the shock of her fall. The memory warmed him and he replayed this fortunate meeting over and over in his mind. The movement of the ship lulled him and his mind began to wander. He thought about the humiliations of the day and wished Sophie had been his partner earlier that day.

The day had started well enough. Justin loved to hunt and the wet weather did nothing to dampen his eagerness. A coal-powered motorcar (a ridiculous invention, really, as it could barely muster 5 leagues per hour) was waiting at the portico, as was Giulia as the town's clock tower chimed five a.m. Justin had given Giulia the most charming smile he could muster, and she'd smiled back, sharing her lap blanket with him, and offering him strong coffee from a vacuum flask. As her driver headed out of town, Giulia had described the estate where they'd be hunting.

"We'll be going to the cloister of Artemis," she'd said, a peaceful smile on her face. "It is honestly the most beautiful land. I think you'll enjoy it. But there is something I must tell you."

"First tell me about the hunting. What is in season here in Ingary?"

They spoke of hunting for a while, and although Justin was disappointed that they wouldn't be hunting larger game such as deer, he was still glad of the opportunity. He told the princess of his many prior trips. He'd shot over 500 passenger pigeons in a single afternoon, he'd boasted. She'd looked at him quizzically. "Was there a feast at hand?" she'd wondered.

"No. He replied. We did it for sport." Her lips had pursed, but he hadn't quite caught on.

Again she mentioned that there was a subject that they must discuss. "I would have told you this before, she said, but we are always surrounded. At least now, there are only three of us." She nodded toward the driver.

She seemed very serious and Justin did not want to spoil the unusual, talkative mood she was in. "Can it wait?" he'd asked.

"If you insist," she replied, and grew quiet. They had headed north, and as the sun began to rise, Justin noticed the terrain had changed measurably. They were in deep forest, and Giulia was growing more excited by the minute, although she tried to hide it. In their previous meetings she'd been quiet, almost dour, but now she was a different person. She beamed with anticipation.

They motorcar turned down a gravel path and pulled up in front of a medieval-looking building, complete with crenellations, where several women were waiting by the door, oblivious to the light rain that had been falling steadily all morning.

"Sister!" they cried, as the princess disembarked. Justin was confused. Had they been sick? Their voices were so hoarse, as though they'd had laryngitis. And the name these women used to address the princess. Surely they would use her honorific? He was struck, also, by the fact that all of these women, including Giulia, were wearing breeches. She looked lovely—they all did, but this choice of attire was highly unusual, and certainly against protocol for a princess, even in country as strange as Ingary. The prince's thoughts were interrupted by his fiancée, who was introducing him to these trouser-clad women.

"Sisters, please do not call me that anymore. I am no longer one of you. Just Giulia, please. Here is my intended, Prince Justin of Strangia. He will be hunting with us today." The women nodded at Justin—no curtseys such as he was used to-- and led the way into the castle-like building.

He'd thought it would be just the two of them, plus some servants to carry what they'd bagged. But these women were clearly not servants, and apparently part of the hunting party. Strangely, they treated Giulia as an equal. Slowly, the reason for Giulia's unprincesslike behavior dawned on Justin. He was marrying a former nun. No wonder she was taciturn—this order probably spoke as little as possible. The house was huge and obviously held many women, but the only sound he heard was that of their footsteps.

And no wonder he'd felt he'd been encroaching on her privacy. Had the royal advisors forced her back to the palace? She'd flinched when he'd touched her, he suddenly remembered. Did she even like men? The weight of this humiliation settled on Justin. He felt it on behalf of both of them.

"I tried to tell you earlier," she said to him quietly, grasping his arm as they walked down a long hall into a tall-ceilinged common room.

Justin looked at her, but could not speak. Finally, he found his voice. "I have not heard of this order. What are your purpose and rules?"

"Why, to live as Artemis did, obviously." She looked at him strangely. Then understanding filled her eyes. "You are not familiar with our gods. I'd forgotten that. Artemis is the goddess of the hunt. Our order honors her by living as she did. We hunt, and as a group live off the land twice a year. We call this 'acting the bear.' We do our best to live as she did—we are chaste, intimate with neither man nor woman, and independent of others. Every sister of Artemis can survive by her wits, and the final ceremony of initiation is a year in which the novice 'acts the bear,' apart from all others."

"And have you performed this ceremony?"

"Oh, yes, several years ago. But the order has released me to serve my country."

It was clear to Justin that her heart was here at the cloister. She spoke of the order using "we," and "our." Again, he struggled for words.

"Giulia. Princess. I release you from your promise, if that is what you want. It is clear that this place is close to your heart, closer than I will ever be."

"I did not mean to deceive you, but I do not want to be released from the promise I made to you. I will give you an heir, as that will be expected."

"But you are not even attracted to me, are you?" his voice was emotionless—he was merely stating an observation.

"Perhaps I will learn. Justin, I love my country and I must do this. What will it take for you to become comfortable with this?"

What _would_ it take? Justin felt as though he'd been cuckolded. It was one thing not to marry for love, but he'd thought at least she'd have some feelings for him. "I want to share power with you," he said suddenly. "I will not simply be your consort."

"I will agree to that," she said after a moment.

Their quiet conversation was interrupted by an older sister who beckoned them into an adjoining room. "Long bow or recurve?" she asked, and Justin did not understand.

"She's asking you which type of weapon you will use today," Giulia pointed to the table.

"You won't be using guns?"

"No, of course not. That wouldn't be true to the ideals of our order. Have you not hunted with bow and arrow?"

No, of course he hadn't. Strangia had embraced technology completely and laughed at primitive weaponry such as this. He'd never so much as seen a long bow and smiled ruefully at the further humiliation he was about to endure.

How glad he'd been for the expedition to end. In fact, he'd complained of being sick—anything to shorten his time at the cloister. They'd driven back to Kingsbury by noon and he'd left in his carriage immediately.

Then he'd seen Sophie and his day had brightened, like a red, red sunset after a daylong storm. He considered where fate had led him, and just before he fell asleep, Justin made himself a promise. He would have his true love, by whatever means possible.


	13. In Which a Castle Is Erected

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property._

**Chapter 13 In Which A Castle Is Erected**

Sophie perched on an outcropping of rock as she surveyed the construction of the new castle. The prep work had been more extensive, and apparently more laborious than what she had witnessed when they'd moved house weeks before. Chalked symbols covered nearly every hunk of metal debris that had fallen into the chasm, and the legs had been recovered from their resting place some distance away. Howl had actually broken a sweat, which Sophie had never seen before. He was always so cool and collected.

"Calcifer! Are you ready?"

Sophie beheld an awesome sight as Calcifer grew in size and Howl stepped inside the swirling energy that constituted the demon. Howl wasn't consumed, however, and appeared to be comfortable, although he was clearly lost in concentration. The earth around Sophie began to buckle and the air began to shimmer as the rusted components of the previous castle, nearby rocks and earth began to shift and reorder themselves. The reddish earth bubbled, was smelted, forged and quenched instantaneously, and the framework of the castle took shape. A seam of clay, exposed in the side of the ravine, was transformed into curved roof tiles and Sophie heard the banging of nails against wood procured from who knows where. It was confusing and exciting. As Sophie focused on one process and tried to infer what exactly was being built, ten other processes unfolded simultaneously. She would look away and start slightly at the differences that had occurred in only moments. Work began to slow and Calcifer dimmed. The castle clunked a bit as its final components found their homes and Howl emerged, clearly drained from his efforts.

"I owe you one, Sparky."

"One? Try one hundred." Calcifer was too tired for a more spirited rejoinder. "I need to lie down."

"Well, what do you think?" Howl turned to Sophie with an expectant, hopeful look in his eye. Sophie did not disappoint.

"Howl!" She jumped up and nearly tackled him in her enthusiasm. "It's even more beautiful than before! It's just like we planned." She blinked rapidly to dispel her tears as she took in the many details of her new home's exterior. "Let me fix you something to eat. You must be famished."

Sophie took charge in the bossy manner of an eldest daughter, and led Howl into the common room. It had been changed only slightly, as Sophie had loved her kitchen-living room from before. Emma's bed was gone from the space, and Calcifer's hearth was even larger than previously. The fireplace had two openings—one into the common room and one onto the small lawn outside. Calcifer was already nestled there sleeping. How funny that the star still preferred ashy grates to something more befitting a luminary.

Sophie rummaged through the larder and found sausages, eggs, butter and flour. She eagerly set to work, lighting a fire in the cook stove she had asked for. It would be demeaning to ask Calcifer to continue to cook for them, and impractical, too, as he was so often missing. The cook stove would be a bit more predictable, temperature-wise, as well. Sophie set sausages frying, and rolled up her sleeves to prepare a soda-risen biscuit dough. It felt so good to be busy again. Preliminary tasks complete, she pumped water into a basin and quickly cleaned up.

Sophie walked over to Howl, who was slumped in a chair by the window. She stood behind him and massaged his shoulders. He smiled and luxuriated in the feel of her hands, in her gentle, curing touch. She then knelt by his feet and removed his muddy boots. The pair he'd chosen was singularly inappropriate for tromping around the wastes, but that was Howl, after all. They were ruined, but that didn't matter. He'd just remake them tomorrow. The rules of life were different here, to be sure. She pulled off his socks and massaged his feet, then placed them on the ottoman. He was close to falling asleep, she saw, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead and turning back to her work.

"You're a wonderful wife, Sophie," she heard him say.

She turned to see him gazing at her, a soft expression on his face. "You put love into everything you do."

"Well, you are very easy to love, Howl Jenkins."

"Not as easy as you, Sophie Jenkins."

Sophie blushed at this. "I do feel like we're married, Howl. I can't imagine anywhere I'd rather be than at your side. I'd like to get married as soon as possible. Would that be okay? As soon as I can find my mother and sisters. Could you help me with that?"

Howl smiled at her words, and at her sudden eagerness to wed. He would and very well could marry her this moment if she would agree—as a wizard, the most educated person in most towns, he had sundry functions such as officiating at marriages and funerals if justices or religious figures were not present. Sophie probably wouldn't find that proper, though. But finding her sisters and mother would be easy, much easier than enduring the overbearing woman he expected to find at the far end of the spell. Yet even that would be bearable to be partnered with Sophie. "We'll look for them tomorrow."

Howl feel asleep then, and Sophie gathered the family for a quiet dinner in their new home. It was hard to contain Markl's exuberance, particularly for his new room, but Howl managed to sleep through it. Markl ran up and down the several flights of stairs, Heen at his heels, remarking on every new detail he noticed. He had wanted a room at the top of the castle, near the crow's nest, and Howl had been happy to oblige. Markl would be starting at the Academy soon, and Howl wanted to make sure he had a welcoming refuge like his own. Sophie had marveled to herself at Howl's love for their first child—Howl had grown so much. What a wonderful father he was becoming.

He wouldn't be comfortable spending the night in that chair. She kissed him and woke him up, and made him eat just a little—he'd be starved in the morning otherwise. Then she led him up the stairs to find his room. He was dead on his feet and barely awake. She quickly found his room and noticed that it was different than before. It was bigger, with many-paned windows opening onto a small balcony, and remarkably it was cleaner, as well. The many talismans used to ward off the Witch of the Waste were gone, though others remained. The stuffed animals that had littered the room had been removed and the many books Howl loved had found homes in dark, carved cases. Baubles such as those a magpie would covet still decorated the room, and Sophie smiled at the vase of peacock feathers that sat on his bureau. Yes, he would definitely appreciate those, she thought. Sophie laid out a nightshirt for Howl, who was more awake now, and walked around the room. It was so very like Howl. Ornate and chaotic, though less so than before, with a beauty that was informed by and transcended the chaos. She smiled at the similarity between the man and his creation. She paused at a heavy door she didn't remember from her past visit to this room.

"I hope I wasn't too presumptuous, Sophie." The door allowed Howl's room to communicate directly with another chamber, her room. She stepped through doorway and saw that the room was simple, elegant, beautiful. White linen hung from the windows and from a four poster bed. Similar to the one in Octavius' home, it dominated the room. Robin's egg blue walls with subtle stripes of silver made the room inviting, and she smiled as she considered the time Howl had put into considering what might please her. To her delight, she saw that Howl had created an inglenook like the one in his childhood room. She looked forward to warming herself by the fire, hopefully with Howl by her side.

"Howl, it's beautiful. Thank you." In their planning, she'd never stopped to think of what she wanted in a room, as her old room had been perfectly adequate. Therefore, she hadn't asked. But it was as if he'd read her mind. The room suited her perfectly. The curtains fluttered and she realized this room also had a balcony, though it faced a different direction than Howl's.

"Here. Let me tuck you in." He was already in his bed, eyes closed, clothes strewn on the floor, nightshirt still folded neatly at the foot of the bed. Howl inhaled her meadow-sweet fragrance as Sophie leaned over him to arrange pillows behind him, her pendant necklace trailing tantalizingly over his skin, her small, soft breasts only inches from his face. She fussed over him, smoothing the sheets and lily-strewn bedspread to cover his bare chest. "Sleep well, great and powerful wizard."

He smiled at those words, said so lovingly. "It's good to be home, Sophie." His blazing blue eyes warmed her and she became afraid of what she might do next.

"Yes, Howl. It is."

She turned away before he had the chance to kiss her, and Howl took the opportunity to admire her silhouette as she exited his room.

"Sophie. What happened to your dress?"

Sophie looked down at her dress and saw nothing unusual, then pulled the back half of the skirt forward as she craned to look behind her. She was horrified to see a large muddy patch at its seat and spatterings of brown from there to its hem. How had she not noticed this earlier? It was probably ruined. And how embarrassing to have been covered in mud for hours with not a single person telling her. Of course, Markl was eight and therefore actually quite liked mud, while Emma had faded quickly after her preliminary viewing of the castle. Howl, of course, had been fairly out of it, given the efforts of the afternoon. "Oh, " she stammered lamely, hesitant to mention her visit with Justin. "I'd forgotten in all this excitement. I fell while I was on my errand. But I'm obviously okay. We can talk about it tomorrow."

What a terrible liar she was. But Howl was too tired to argue and feel asleep immediately, feeling more loved and secure than ever in his life.

…………… ……………

Howl awoke to a banging at the castle door. He stumbled down the stairs, pulling his robe around him, to find Markl at the portal, accepting a large green- and gold-wrapped package. "Sophie!" Markl yelled excitedly, it's for you!"

Sophie turned from the cook stove with a look of surprise on her face. The package, Howl saw, was from Madame Cherraud's establishment, known throughout Kingsbury as the most fashionable place for a woman to have her clothes made. Howl had visited this store often in past years as he wooed his many lady friends, and in a manner of speaking, had purchased Sophie's garments there.

Sophie washed her hands and took the package from Markl with a confused smile on her face. She recognized the wrappings as well. Fanny had most of her clothes made by Madame Cherraud herself, as she thought it demonstrated the success of the hat shop. Sophie looked to Howl as if to ask if the package was from him, and he smiled drolly at her, raising his eyebrow. "Oh!" she said, after reading the card, "It's from Turniphead." She delightedly tore open the shiny papers covering the box and uncovered an expensive-looking gown. It was of many layers of near transparent burnt orange silk, with hand beaded flowers and crystal droplets. Sophie gasped at its extravagance as she inspected the gown's fine workmanship. Many hours of labor had gone into its embellishment.

Howl turned away and tried his hardest not to laugh. "He certainly proves the adage that money does not equal taste," he said to himself. The dress would look horrible on Sophie. It would sallow her skin and was far too flouncy a dress for Sophie to feel comfortable in.

"How is it that the vegetable prince of Strangia is buying my fiancée clothing?" He turned back to Sophie, barely managing to control the smile that was urging itself to his lips.

Sophie reddened. "Well, Howl, when I fell yesterday, the reason why…" She started over. "Yesterday, after I finished my errand, I wasn't quite paying attention, and Turnip – er, Prince Justin's carriage almost hit me. I fell backwards, and he helped me up and took me home. I guess he felt bad about ruining my dress, although I didn't even notice it myself."

"Sophie!" The smile was gone from Howl's face. "You could have been killed. Those horses are immense!" He enfolded her in his arms.

Sophie wriggled out of his grasp. "Honestly, Howl. I really can take care of myself." She paused. "Did you know he will be marrying Princess Giulia?"

"I'd guessed something like that might be underway. His coach arrived at the palace the other day."

"He said you know her. Did you…" _Court her? _She wanted to say, but the words caught in her throat.

"I met her a long time ago, but never got to know her too well, Sophie. I was at court with her when I was twelve and she was seven, just before I was expelled and met you. She sat by her brother's side and never smiled. She wriggled constantly as if she couldn't bear to sit there for five minutes, let alone hours. It was obvious she hated the place. Turns out she left years ago to become a sister of the Order of Artemis. It was a surprise to see she had returned to the palace. I guess she had no choice."

"How can she marry, then? Hasn't she taken a vow of celibacy?"

"Yes, and chastity, as well. Perhaps they've made allowances for her. It would do the order well to have a queen as their benefactor. I wonder if Turniphead knows she was a nun until recently."

"He'd like us to visit him, Howl. He is going back to Strangia until the wedding and said he'd like to show us his country."

The smile did not return to Howl's face. Emma had told him of Justin's words upon returning to human form and how he'd vowed to pursue Sophie. He did not trust royals, however chivalrous, to be true to their word and a feeling of distrust settled upon him. "That's definitely worth thinking about, Sophie. Let's talk about it later, shall we? I'm starved and breakfast smells wonderful."

Sophie was slightly piqued at this response, and allowed herself the luxury of being annoyed with Howl throughout breakfast. Shouldn't she have friends? Would he be this jealous of any man she met? She finished her breakfast silently, and retired upstairs to try on the garment Justin had bought her. She was disappointed, as Howl thought she might be. The dress was too fancy for her—she couldn't see herself wearing it, not even to a ball or even a royal audience. Its color yellowed her skin and made her look ill. Sadly, she took off the dress, replaced it in its box and stowed it in the back of her wardrobe. If she were a redhead, the dress would suit beautifully. Maybe she should give it to her sister Martha, if she ever saw her again. She sighed. Justin certainly did not have an eye for color.

Sophie dressed in the pale yellow gown, her favorite and headed back downstairs. "You were right, Howl." He had also dressed, she noticed, and was wearing a color she had never seen him in. He was stunning of course, even dressed simply in a tunic of pomegranate and breeches of palest fawn. It was nice to see him out of the black mourning clothes he had worn in Kingsbury. And strangely, he was clearing the table. By hand—no magic seemed to be involved.

"About what?" he looked confused.

"The dress doesn't suit me. I know what you were thinking, and I saw you smirking. You don't have to worry, there's no way I'll be wearing it."

He smiled at her, an apology on his lips. "Sophie—"

"Not every man has your inborn fashion sense, Howl. At least he tried. I think it's sweet that he tried."

Howl wanted to say he was uncomfortable with the idea of another man, a man who was in love with Sophie, giving her gifts. He held his tongue. It was clear she was on the verge of tears.

"Sophie. I didn't mean to offend." He approached her and kissed her gently, then led her to the settee, where he pulled her onto his lap. "You know, Sophie, it seems that things never go the way I've planned when it comes to you. I was planning on carrying you in over the threshold yesterday, but it didn't work out that way, did it? Thank you for taking such good care of me. I didn't mean to seem overbearing before. I couldn't help imagining you injured when you told me what happened. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you, love."

Sophie kissed him, and her mood seemed to brighten appreciably.

"Can I give you the grand tour, or did you explore yesterday?"

"Well, Markl certainly did, but I thought I'd wait for you. Shall we?" She grabbed her hat from its hook by the pier glass, and headed though the common room's French doors to the lawn, where Emma was bundled into a lawn chair, and Markl was cavorting with Heen.

"No, let's not go there yet. Calcifer? Are you up yet?" A glow emerged from the room's large hearth, and Calcifer muttered something unintelligible.

"Calcifer! I thought you were going to chaperone me last night!"

"Late night. Too much wine and women. Howl, I'm sure you can understand…"

"Don't blame your wayward ways on me, demon. I was in bed by nine, myself. Let's get going. It's time to get the castle moving." Howl stepped quickly toward the stairs, pulling Sophie with him.

"Alright, alright, keep your socks on. I swear I don't know why I come back here. As if moving the old castle hadn't been enough to kill me."

……………….. ………….

Howl and Sophie inspected the castle from top to bottom, Sophie exclaiming over the ideas they'd discussed that Howl had made reality. Emma's room was perfect for the elderly witch, and opened directly onto the small lawn that Sophie wondered about. "Why is there a lawn, Howl? We never needed one before."

"Wait and see," was Howl's only response, accompanied by a mischievous grin. There were several other surprises for Sophie. Octavius' library had been transported in its entirety, and Sophie was overjoyed by this. She had intended to peruse more thoroughly the books Howl had shown her that came from another world. The room was a peaceful place, and she hoped to spend many hours there.

"We are so alike," Howl said, reading her expression accurately. "I thought this would please you. I can't tell you how many hours I've spent here. Almost everything I know came from these books."

He showed her other small touches he had thought of, some on the fly during the actual construction of the castle, some preplanned but unspoken. Sophie was thoroughly enchanted.

"One last thing," Howl said, "Close your eyes and trust me." He stepped aside, and yelled down to the fire demon. "Are you ready, Cal?" A grumbling noise was the demon's reply. Howl opened a door, and led Sophie down a metal catwalk to an observation post cantilevered from the castle.

"It's windy," Sophie said. "When can I look?"

"Open your eyes, darling."

They were in the air, Sophie saw. The castle was flying.

"I wanted you to experience flight, Sophie. I can't imagine anything more thrilling."

Neither could Sophie. Was this what it was like to be a bird, to be Howl? She felt so free, so alive. She leaned against the railing, hands behind her, and looked out in awe at the patchwork of meadows and rocks below them, and felt the mist on her face as the castle glided through a bank of clouds. She turned to Howl, to find him looking at her with the most loving expression she had ever seen. Gently, he kissed her.

"Welcome home, Sophie."

"I'll never leave, Howl."


	14. In Which Sophie Makes a Decision

**Chapter 14: In Which Sophie Makes a Decision**

It had been raining for weeks, which was to be expected in the southern-most part of Ingary at this time of year. The wastes, where Calcifer had set down the castle, were cold and bleak, as usual, and even the secret garden Howl had shared with Sophie was sodden. Sophie had spent most of October in the library, warmed by its great fire. Emma had been steadily improving, and although her powers had not returned, her vast knowledge of magic had. She had taken it on herself to continue Markl's training, as Howl was occupied by his commission from the princess.

She hadn't seen Howl in weeks, really. He'd come home exhausted long after night had fallen, and leave just after sun-up. Sophie, being an early riser, made sure he had a good breakfast and engaged him as much as she could before he left each day. But he was preoccupied and seemed worried. Things weren't going so smoothly with the transformations as he had hoped and it was possible that he wouldn't be finished by the time of Giulia's wedding. He'd apologized to Sophie for not being around more, but she understood. There was no escaping this royal duty, and the long hours spent would get the job done that much faster.

Sophie rose from her seat by the fire and rearranged the logs that blazed there. She'd taken advantage of the solitude to finish the first gift she'd planned for Howl. She'd gone to his wardrobe and removed her favorite shirt, the white cotton shirt with full bloused sleeves and a tie neck. He took her breath away when he wore it, so it was understandable that she'd want his wedding garment to look somewhat similar. She'd used the shirt as a pattern and cut the bottle green silk she'd bought into appropriate pieces, stitching them lovingly into a whole. It hadn't taken long to create a beautiful garment, and even less time to make a matching shirt for Markl. She'd wait to begin her wedding gown, using the many remaining yards of the fabric. She had something else she wanted to make for her love. She was not skilled at smithing, as he was, and certainly couldn't make anything near as beautiful as the castle she sat in, but she did have a certain artistry with the needle.

Sophie walked to the bookcase closest to the window, the one that contained the books from that other world. She had noticed a title that intrigued her. _Birds of North America_, it read, wherever that was. It consisted of several oversized volumes and she lugged the first to the large, quarter sawn oak table which had reappeared some time ago. She paged through the book. Most of its images were fairly static, though highly detailed, but some showed birds in flight. Many of the darker-plumaged ones reminded her of Howl somehow, and Sophie got out pencil and paper to sketch these images.

Satisfied with her renderings, Sophie removed her embroidery hoop, a square of white silk, needles and floss from her work chest and set to work. This would take some time to complete, but it was meditative work and with each stitch she thought about her friend and partner.

Her mind drifted after a while, and she thought of her sisters and mother. She'd written to them at every address she and Howl could think of. Howl had done some incantation to target the letters as much as was possible, though Ingary was still war-torn and the postal service was running poorly. Sophie hoped her family was safe and healthy and wondered what they would think of her situation. Her mother hadn't seemed to realize whom she was living with during her visit, and it had stung Sophie painfully when she realized that Fanny had given her up to Suliman. She was willing to forgive, and move on, however. Sophie recognized fully Fanny's limitations. She had realized long ago that Fanny thought first of herself and others second, and only if she remembered. She _was_ her mother, though, and Sophie's heart was big enough to accept the woman as she was. She wondered what conclusions her mother would draw if and when she read the letter. Fanny might think Sophie's virtue had been stolen, and if Market Chipping still existed, Sophie was sure she would have been the talk of the town. She could almost hear the villagers' talk. That quiet plain girl, seduced by that amoral wizard. How soon until she was impregnated and dumped at her parents' doorstep? Sophie was glad, almost, that no one knew where she was. She never had been part of the circle of people who cast judgment on every person that crossed their path, and she realized she was glad of this. They would never understand Howl. He was too different from the norm, and so, she realized was she. She smiled at this epiphany. He said they were alike. She was beginning to see how true this was.

What would her sisters think? They, like Sophie, were quite different from Fanny. Lettie was the more worldly one, and Martha the romantic. Lettie would be pleased that Howl could provide for her and glad that Sophie had finally done something for herself, while Martha would be swept up in their story. She hoped her sisters were okay, and cried a bit. She missed them terribly.

…………… ……………

Finally, she heard from them. They were safe. Fanny had hurried to collect Martha and Lettie as the bombs had begun to drop on Market Chipping. Sophie had been nowhere to be found and after weeks had gone by they'd assumed the worst—that she had been killed by the terrible bombing that had nearly leveled the town. They were overjoyed to hear she was alive and Fanny had even seemed pleased at her engagement. They were not in Ingary, however. Mr. Sacheverell-Smith, Fanny's husband and a man of considerable wealth, had a house abroad, and they had relocated there. They planned to stay there until the Smith estate was rebuilt, and as it had been a very grand place (and would soon be grander, if Sophie knew her mother) this would take some time. Fanny had taken the girls on a tour of the land they were visiting, and they wouldn't be returning to Ingary for a year at least. Fanny assumed (demanded, really) that Sophie could wait that long and promised a grand wedding, courtesy of Sophie's stepfather. She emphasized the need for virtue as well, and seemed glad that Sophie had two chaperones.

Sophie felt a mix of emotions as she read and reread the letter. She was overjoyed that her mother and sisters were alive, but frustrated, so frustrated at the expectation that she wait an entire year to be wed. Sophie's mom had waited less than a week before marrying her current husband. Why should things be different for her daughter? They didn't know Howl, they didn't know how much she loved Howl. It was as though they were husband and wife already. They had no secrets. They shared everything. Well, almost everything. And who would she invite to this wedding apart from her family? The gossips of Market Chipping? The catty girls she had gone to school with? Howl had no family apart from Sophie, Markl, Emma and Calcifer. Neither, Sophie realized, did she.

It was late and the family, apart from Howl, had eaten supper and gone to bed. Sophie lingered in the kitchen, hoping Howl might return soon, but finally gave up and headed to her room. She needed some air. The rain had finally stopped, and Sophie decided to enjoy the balcony that graced her room, and the moonlight that made the night nearly as bright as day. She dried the iron chair that sat there with a towel and embraced the cool night air. "Howl's mother was right." The thought jumped into her mind, and unbidden, sprang from her lips. "She didn't care what others thought. She knew in her heart what was right and she followed her heart. She loved Howl's father and wasn't afraid to show him. I wish I'd met her. I'll bet she was just like him."

Sophie looked up and saw a bird in one of the few trees that could be found on the waste. It was an owl, a largish one, sooty black with huge pupils obscuring the color of its eyes. "Have you been listening to me?" she laughed. "Well, owls are supposed to be intelligent. What do you think of my problem? I guess you need details. I found out today that my mother wants me to wait at least year to get married. Honestly, I don't think I can do this. My fiancé—I love him. He's been so patient with me. And the truth is, I don't want to wait. I dream about him every night." It hadn't helped that she had perused yet another book in the library, from the very same shelf as the bird books. She hadn't realized when she'd removed the volume what lie within—she'd been fascinated with the cover of the book, with the curving lines and flowers tooled into its leather, the ornate and unsubdued beauty of its design. It reminded her of Howl, she realized, carrying the book back to her room. She'd been shocked at first, to see the plates inside this book. She'd slammed the book shut several times, face flushed, eyes wide. But again and again she'd reopened the book and finally had closely inspected the images, turning the book as necessary (and it was necessary, at times). The plates showed a man and woman, both very foreign looking, engaged in very intimate acts—things she'd never imagined. Of course her dreams had been filled with these images, although the woman and man in the dreams were she and Howl. Sophie blushed as she recollected the vivid details of these dreams, then laughed that she could be embarrassed by talking frankly to a bird. "I want to share myself with him, to be intimate with him. But I've been telling myself that we should wait until we're married. Now I think that doesn't matter. I love him, and everyone who is important to me already knows this and that we've promised to love each other forever. What is the point of waiting?" The owl looked at her. Strangely, she thought. It cocked its head and ruffled its feathers, then softly hooted. "Well, I'm sure you have things to do. Mice to catch. The night awaits you." Her voice softened. "Thanks for listening. I know what to do now."

She turned and left the balcony.

Howl remained in the tree, somewhat shaken. He hadn't meant to overhear her, and found himself unable to leave once she had begun to address him. How he missed her! And to hear her say those words—he hadn't believed his ears, at first, although as an owl his hearing was much better than that of a human. He took flight, his fur-like feathers making no sound as they beat the air. He needed to fly, and think. He had not been expecting this.

After an hour, he returned to the castle, and slowly went upstairs.

She was sitting by the fire, intent on the embroidery that rested in her lap. Howl entered his bed chamber and smiled to see her there. "You waited up for me. Why? It's late. You must be tired."

Sophie could see that he, in fact, was the one who was tired. It had been a long day for him and his aspect showed that the day had been a struggle. She couldn't wait, however. Who knew how long he'd be at this business? She hid the almost-completed embroidery project behind the pillow next to her and took a deep breath.

"Howl, "she said. He sat across from her, eyes intent on her. "I'm ready."

He raised an eyebrow. "Ready?"

"Yes." She rose and began to unfasten the buttons that ran up her back. Without the long-handled tool she typically used to accomplish this, she was mostly unsuccessful.

"Sophie. Are you sure about this? Darling, I can wait. Don't do this for me."

"I'm ready, Howl. Will you help me with my dress?"

"Hold your horses, dear lady. What is this about? Why the change of heart?"

Sophie slumped into her chair, and looked at the ground. Finally, she spoke.

"I don't want to wait a year to marry you."

"A year? You heard from Fanny." He couldn't tell her just now that he'd been part of her earlier conversation.

"She's traveling abroad and has insisted that we wait. The thing is, Howl, I've been thinking." Her eyes had filled with tears. "My mother has never put me first. Why should I put her before you?"

Howl gathered her in his arms. "Sophie if this is really what you want, I'm all for it. Really, I am." _You have no idea_, he thought to himself. "But Sophie, I've gotten the idea that it's important to you to wait until we're married. Isn't that true?"

"I don't know, Howl. I thought so, but… Your mother didn't care, you said so yourself. It didn't matter to her that she and your dad were unmarried."

"People treated her cruelly as a result. Do you think you could handle that?" His voice was gentle. "Would you want your child to be called a bastard?"

She saw hurt in his eyes. What a childhood he'd had. She leaned against him and held him tightly.

"No, Howl," she said. "But I can't wait a year."

Howl eyes lit up. "Marry me, Sophie."

She didn't understand. "Yes, Howl, of course. That isn't at issue."

"Marry me _now_, Sophie."

"Howl Jenkins, are you mad? It's half past one. Shall we go into Kingsbury and wake the magistrate? Find an all-night church or temple?" She began to laugh.

"I'll be right back," Howl said, and dashed from the room.

She heard the clattering of his boots on the stairs, and wondered why a man of 6 foot 1, with a fiancée of 5 foot 3, would need heels on his shoes. "Fashion," she muttered. "I'm engaged to a clothes horse. A mad clothes horse."

Howl ran into the room, carrying two large, leather-bound volumes. "Pendragon or Jenkins?" he asked breathlessly, depositing the books on the low table near Sophie.

"Pendragon or Jenkins what?"

"Who would you like to marry us? Wizard Pendragon or Wizard Jenkins?"

"You want to marry us, right now? Wizards can do that?"

He nodded, smiling ear to ear. "We have lots of strange duties. This particular one is for emergencies, but surely this qualifies." He gave her a wolfish look and smiled at the look she gave him in return. He'd have to work with her on her sense of humor. She was so serious. "Wizard Pendragon doesn't have a lot of experience at weddings. There are lots of temples and judges in Kingsbury, of course. But Wizard Jenkins…" He laughed at the number of shotgun weddings he'd participated in. As an official, of course.

"We don't need a witness?"

"No. This is perfectly legal. See?" He opened the Jenkins volume and pointed to fine language on its frontispiece.

The writing was far too small for Sophie to read. But this would solve her problem. She wanted so badly to be his wife.

"So. Wizard Pendragon or Wizard Jenkins?"

"Jenkins, I guess. At least he exists."

Howl opened the book to a new page, and with a flourish, produced a pen from mid-air. "Well, then. Our vows. I could read what's written here, but it would sound pretty silly for me to be asking myself if I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife. How about we write our own? They can be anything we want, as long as we promise to commit for life and acknowledge that we are bound together. It's legal, honest, Sophie. And it will be so much more fun." His eyes were filled with delight and satisfaction at having solved her problem so easily.

Sophie's mouth was agape. What on earth would she say?

"Don't worry. I'll go first. Give me five minutes." He sat at his secretary and produced a piece of paper. The pen flew across the room to where he sat. He paused, nib in mouth, then smiled as he found the words he wanted. Then noticing her standing there looking at him still frozen to the spot where she'd stood moments before. He guided Sophie to her seat, pulled her closer to the fire, and gave her a piece of paper and pen and something to lean against while writing.

Sophie's mind cleared of its stupor and she thought for a while. There was so much she wanted to tell him. Finally, she began to write. When she looked up, Howl was sitting across from her, smiling. He seemed so happy in this moment.

"Ready?" he asked. She nodded. What she'd written would have to do. He grasped her hand, and stood with her before the fireplace, just inches apart from her.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "I'll need that back." He reached for her ring, and placed it, and his own into his jacket pocket. Sophie couldn't help but notice how dashing her almost-husband looked. He was wearing black again, as he seemed to do when visiting Kingsbury.

"Sophie Hatter," Howl began, "When I met you, ten years ago, I was sure I'd spend my life with you. But I didn't know why, because of course, I didn't know you. Now, I do. The last few months with you have changed me utterly. You loved me unconditionally, and showed me that I could love. Sophie, I love you completely and I will love you forever-- until we die and after. For the rest of my life I will stay with you, and love and honor you, no matter the circumstances, and I will be faithful to you always. I promise to be your husband, your partner and your equal. Will you be my wife?"

Sophie looked at him with adoration in her eyes. "Yes, Howl, I will." She took a deep breath, and began to read the words she'd written. Her hands were shaking, and her voice was soft and tremulous. "Howl Jenkins, when we walked through the sky together, I fell in love with you." She stopped, and Howl smiled at her encouragingly. "I never thought I would fall in love, Howl, but when you walked into my life, everything changed. Howl, I promise to be your wife, to be faithful to you and to honor, love and cherish you always. I promise this for as long as we both live, and after. Will you be my husband and partner?"

"I will, Sophie. I will."

They kissed then, gently and then more passionately. Howl reluctantly broke off the kiss and said, "We aren't finished yet." He reached inside his pocket and withdrew the two rings. They were transformed. A large, deep blue sapphire was centered on each; the stones sparkled with an inner fire.

"Sophie, this ring is a symbol of my commitment to you. With it, I wed you."

He placed the ring on Sophie's finger, and kissed her again.

"Howl." Her voice was almost a whisper as she repeated his words. "This ring is a symbol of my commitment to you." Her voice broke. "With it, I wed you." She placed the ring on his waiting finger and kissed him.

"One last thing. We need to sign the book." The pen reappeared in his hand, and Howl signed the book with a flourish. "Your turn."

Sophie signed the book in her neat, small hand, and laid the pen on the book. She turned to her husband, who was looking at her strangely.

"So, Howl," Sophie said, cheeks burning, eyes averted. "Will you help me with my dress?"


	15. In Which a Love is

**_This is a placeholder for Chapter 15._**

**_That chapter is rated M, and I have therefore decided to house it separately, so as not to offend those who are looking for a non-explicit story. You can access this part of the story by going to my author page. This chapter can be found in "A Year in the Life, Part 2," and will be labeled "In Which a Love Is Consummated."_**

_**I have done my best not to advance the plot in this chapter, so that those who choose to skip it will not be lost when they skip to the next chapter. **_

_**--sakura**_

**_Chapter 16 appears next. Click to move on!_**


	16. A Family, Finally

**Chapter 16 A Family, Finally**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

The family was eating breakfast, and for once Howl had joined them. Sophie had outdone herself. Instead of the typical morning meal of bacon, eggs and bread, she'd made pain perdu and a lovely berry coulis, sausages, hot coffee and chocolate. The larder had surprised her that morning. She'd been thinking of raspberries, and lamenting the fact that they were well out of season, as she'd considered the morning meal. But when she'd opened the larder, there they stood, a small basket of June-ripe, dewy berries. Howl had improved her kitchen, it seemed. She'd smiled and closed the door. "Sausages," she'd thought, and there they appeared, a long string of them swung from the door as it opened. "What fun," she'd laughed, quickly changing the menu to use these items. She usually cooked plainly, despite the fact that her school had spent her final year instilling what they'd called, "the domestic graces," in her. She'd learned a lot of fancy cooking, as well as deportment and posture. How good to put at least some of it to use.

Only the crown of Markl's head had been visible for most of the meal, as he'd greedily devoured the food before him, then asked for more. As usual, Howl didn't eat much, and Sophie also was a bit too excited for food.

"Markl," she asked, "are you free today?" He'd looked up at her, nearly breathless from his endeavor, and nodded.

"There's someplace we need to take you," Howl added. "It's a very special day."

"Are we going to the zoo?" Markl's face lit up. "Even when it's raining the animals are out. The zookeeper told me that, last time."

"Sure, we can go to the zoo. But first, Markl…Would you like to be my son? For real, I mean, so that everybody knows it? And would you like Sophie to be your mom?"

Markl sprung from his chair and danced around the room, hugging Howl and Sophie and Emma, and carrying Heen with him as he hopped a little jig. He whooped and hollered for quite some time, as Sophie and Howl sat hand in hand at the table, smiling at him and each other.

"We're really a family now," Sophie breathed, and Howl kissed her forehead.

"Yes, love, we are."

"Does this mean what I think it does?" asked Emma, who was catching on more quickly these days. Her eyes sparkled for a bit, but then she lapsed into the confusion which sometimes surrounded her. "When did you marry? Was there a big party? Did I enjoy it? Were there cigars?"

Sophie laughed and soothed Emma. "The party's still to come, and yes, there will be cigars for you. You'll see."

Emma smiled and drifted off into that world she lived in less and less frequently. Markl bounded up the stairs to ready for his big day.

"Howl. I thought I'd be your best man." The voice from the grate sounded hurt, pained.

"So you shall, Cal. There will be a proper wedding soon enough. Sophie just couldn't wait." Howl shook his head in mock amazement at the beautiful woman sitting next to him. She took the opportunity to smack him neatly across his back as her face turned crimson.

"Couldn't wait, huh, Sophie?" Calcifer sniggered at this, and his typical mood returned. "Probably wasn't worth it though, was it? This one's all talk, at least that's how it used to be…"

It was Howl's turn to redden. This was a phenomenon Sophie hadn't experienced before, and she wondered how close to home Calcifer had struck. Howl had mentioned the presence of chaperones during much of his courting. Was he more innocent than he appeared? A smile formed on Sophie's lips. This would be worth bringing up next time he teased her.

"Calcifer, would you mind Emma while we're gone this morning? I don't think she's up to the trip. She's not quite herself this morning. Just keep her away from fire and such." Sophie's voice was as sweet and kind as usual. Calcifer could not resist, although he tried.

"And how will I do that? She's still fascinated with me, you know. Oh, all right." He grumbled, and left the grate to chaperone a less attractive specimen than he had hoped for.

"Come upstairs. I have something for you." Howl kissed her hair as she rose, and took her hand.

"It's getting cold. I thought you'd need a more suitable gown for visiting Kingsbury." It was beautiful of course, just the dress for a young wife. Sophie held it to her and saw the pale grey of the soft wool fabric complemented her hair perfectly. Black pasimmenterie trim embellished the hem of the garment, and the matching short jacket.

"Howl. You're spoiling me." And her gift for him still was not ready. She bit her lip. When did he have time to think of these things?

"Not possible, love. Quit dawdling and get ready. We have a son to adopt!" He moved past her, whistling, and entered his own chamber. What a wonderful day it was.

…………….. …………..

The ceremony had been even more straightforward than their own the night before, requiring only three signatures in another large volume. The three had hugged, and Markl's new parents had kissed him, adoration in their eyes. The zoo was only steps away, and they stood there now, in front of the tiger Markl wanted to see.

They saw a mangy creature, clearly unhappy in its surroundings, his fur missing in spots, eyes sleepy and forlorn. A small, iron-barred cage was his home, his bedding a small pile of straw. He shivered in the corner, out of the reach of the misting rain. This place was a far cry from the tiger's native home and it was hard to see him reduced to such a state.

Sophie turned to Howl. "I've never been to a zoo before. There wasn't one in Market Chipping."

"This place hasn't changed much since I was a child. I did my best to avoid coming here. I never understood how it could be fun to see animals so unhappy. But obviously, others don't agree. He gestured to the crowds milling around, at the children, including Markl, who were so happy to see these animals.

"Don't tigers come from someplace warm?"

"Yes, a lot warmer than here. Although Kingsbury would certainly suit in summertime."

"Howl, how is that you were able to get away for the day? Aren't you behind schedule with your work?"

"Yes, but I was at a stopping point. There are several potions I will need to make before continuing, and each of them will take days to create." He smiled. "I couldn't have planned it to work out more perfectly. It will be nice to spend some time with you."

"Well, shouldn't you be starting on the potions?"

Howl laughed at his wife's imperiousness. Part of being the eldest to be sure, Sophie was nothing if not bossy. "Actually, there are several ingredients that I need. Interestingly enough, all of them can be found here at the zoo." He turned to the tiger, and said soft words, growls almost. The tiger rose at once and lumbered to the short end of the cage where Howl stood. Howl cast a distraction spell and the crowds nearby dispersed. "Markl, son. Come help me with this." The tiger rubbed up against the bars of his cage, as if trying to soothe a mighty itch, and Howl rubbed the great cat. Clumps of fur came loose in his hand, and Howl placed one of these inside his copious jacket. He continued to rub the cat, and Markl followed suit, with awe in his eyes. The cat began to purr, a staccato firing at first, then a steady rumble. "I'll take you home sometime soon, friend," Howl promised. The tiger looked at him with steady green eyes, then lumbered back to his corner.

"We've known each other for years," Howl said by way of explanation. "He was at the court for a while, until the king decided he was allergic." He rolled his eyes and moved onward with his family.

"Can we see the monkeys now?" Markl danced around, primate-like himself, and Sophie laughed. 

"Why, Markl? Are you hoping to join them?"

Markl made screeching noises as he jumped from bench to bench, running between Howl's legs and around Sophie. The monkey house was warm and tropical-smelling. Its walls were covered with pale green tile and columns adorned with carved monkeys held up a glass roof. A garden was directly below this roof, with chairs and benches for human visitors. Sophie admired the many large-flowered plants on display here. It was so different from the sterile spaces that encircled the atrium. At the edge of the room were many smaller rooms, each walled in pale green tile, each separated from the humans by a wall of bars. A single rope hung from the ceiling of each room, and different types of monkeys and apes filled the rooms.

All were bored, it seemed. The inmates of one room had devised a game that seemed a bit painful, but which was better than nothing, Sophie thought. They'd each climb the bars as high as possible, and throw themselves at the opposite wall. They'd hit with a slap, and slide slowly to the floor. They did this over and over. There was an air of futility to their actions, and Sophie found she desperately wanted to leave. She turned to Howl, who was also observing this monkey spectacle with sadness in his eyes.

"I really hate this place," he said softly, so only Sophie could hear. Again he cleared the room, and for safety's sake, quickly transformed into the clothes of a zookeeper. "Markl, are you coming?" Howl asked, and opened the door at the back of the display. Markl, of course, wouldn't miss this for the world, and he followed at Howl's heels, laughing, as Howl told him the nature of this task. Howl produced a paper bag and gingerly stepped into the cage, as monkeys began to howl and chatter. Howl didn't even need to reach down. The monkeys obliged, throwing anything they could think of at him. Howl grimaced and gingerly removed the object he needed from the place on his shirt where it had stuck and into the paper bag. He and Markl hurried out, and in a moment Howl regained his sartorial splendor. "Ugh. I need a bath. The things I do for my art. This particular item is going back _now_." The bag and its pungent contents disappeared from his hands, and at this, Howl's mood brightened appreciably. He produced a dampened washcloth and cleaned his hands thoroughly. With a snap, this too disappeared.

"Son," he said smiling (he was determined that Markl enjoy this place), "where to next?"

"The reptile house, Dad." Markl tore off, Howl took Sophie's arm and they strolled to that place. The reptile house was less sad, Sophie thought, glancing around the place. Of course this was probably because it's hard to feel sad for a snake or lizard. They seemed comfortable, nonetheless, in their glass-walled cages, as rocks or branches provided places to bask or drape as needed.

A reticulated python held Markl in thrall, its sinuous curves wrapped around a thick branch, its chocolate brown markings vibrant against a duller green. It had just shed, Howl saw, and slowly he passed his hand through the glass to grasp the old skin. The snake flicked its tongue at him, but ignored him otherwise. Howl smiled. His son had chosen just the places he needed to go to collect the materials for his potion. He looked forward to instructing him in the intricacies of this spell.

………… ……………

The week had passed fairly uneventfullly, apart from the minor explosions that had rocked the castle from time to time, as potion after potion blew up before the magician and his apprentice. Sophie heard a soft swearing from time to time, and would look up to give Howl a warning glance. He'd smile back mischievously, then ignore her steadily, as he creatively embellished his profanity. Markl was lost in snorts of laughter as he caught on to this little joke.

It was so nice to have him there, to be a family. Emma snoozed in a chair, Heen at her feet, and Sophie felt at last she was home. She couldn't be happier. She set to work on some experiments of her own, culinary ones, and basked in the warmth of their togetherness.

And of the course the nights had been lovely, as well, as she and her husband grew to know each other. They spent hours in each other's arms talking or simply loving each other and Sophie felt her heart would burst, it was so full of happiness. Sophie smiled as she considered her husband, her son, her family. She had never thought she was a lucky person, but clearly she'd been wrong.

The portal clicked and Sophie headed for the door, wiping her hands on her apron and smoothing back her hair. It was a messenger in the livery of prince Justin. "With his majesty's compliments," the boy said, bowing deeply. "I'll return for your reply tomorrow." Sophie broke the seal on the letter he'd presented, and quickly scanned its contents.

"Howl. It's from Justin. As the wedding is only two weeks away, he thought that we might join him soon. Could we, Howl?"

Howl looked at her, and saw how happy it would make her to do this for Turnip. And he and Sophie were married now, so surely she'd be safe. If he worked hard and didn't sleep, perhaps he'd finish quickly and catch up to her in a few days.

"If it would make you happy, yes, Sophie, I think you should do it. But love, I won't be able to join you. I have to finish this before their wedding." He sighed as the potion exploded yet again. The ceiling sported interlocking circles of soot from his previous attempts. They were making little progress, it seemed.

"Thank you, Howl. But now, I'm not sure I want to go." She went to him and hugged him. "I don't want to be apart from you."

"It's never a good idea to turn down a royal summons, darling. I learned that the hard way, remember? Besides, the sooner you leave, the sooner I'll see you again. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder. We can see if that's true."

"If you think it's best Howl, okay." She looked into his eyes, and saw something there, a sense of foreboding. What was he afraid of? She'd spend five days, she decided, and be back at his side before the week was over. "I guess I'll leave tomorrow, then."


	17. In Which Sophie Embarks on a Journey

**Chapter 17 In Which Sophie Embarks on a Journey**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

They'd spent the night talking, mostly, but loving each other, too. They were in each other's arms now, and Sophie had finally fallen asleep. Howl lay on his side, spooning her, one hand draped over her waist. He kissed her hair, and she snuggled into him a bit more deeply. This was bliss, truly. Howl absentmindedly stroked the curve of her abdomen, then suddenly stopped. He'd noticed something—a subtle difference about his new wife. Howl flattened his hand against her, and stilled his breathing, listening with every part of his body. He was puzzled for a moment, then his magnificent smile burst forth. They were not alone. He'd felt a glimmer of life once, and then again. A tiny little speck of life, just formed, it seemed.

She would be so happy, he knew it. He thought of waking her at once to share the news, then stopped himself. Surely this was something she'd want to share with him. It would be days, maybe weeks before she even realized that she was pregnant, and this was something happening in her body, a secret she would share with him. The great and powerful wizard would sit this one out, and let his lovely wife have the honor of sharing the news.

But how had this happened? The spell he'd cast should still be working, shouldn't it? It had certainly hurt enough. Had he gotten sloppy? Nothing seemed to go as he'd planned lately. He still hadn't figured out the potion he needed to shrink the reptilian wizards into a more manageable size. He sighed that he wouldn't be accompanying his wife on her trip to Strangia. Now, more than ever, he wanted to be by her side. He just didn't trust that vegetable prince.

Howl pulled her closer to him, and nuzzled her neck. "Darling, I hate to do this to you, but you have a lot to accomplish today."

"Already? No, let's stay here for a while, Howl." She rolled over and kissed him, and of course he couldn't resist. Even five days apart would be difficult. He would have to get things settled here and join her as soon as possible.

……….. ………

At ten a.m., when they joined the living, they found that Justin's messenger had come and gone, and was sending a carriage for Sophie. It was due to arrive in only minutes. There was no way she'd be ready in time. Howl smiled as she dashed around, trying to locate the items she would need.

"Sophie, relax," Howl finally said, from the position on the settee where he'd draped himself. "I'll take you to Strangia. Don't worry about the carriage." It had been fun to watch her fly about, but she was nearly in a panic now. "Darling. Rest for a minute."

Howl snapped his fingers, and her chest appeared. He opened it and inspected its contents. With a few words, he added some items. She'd need more gowns than those she had. He returned the hideous brown gown Justin had sent to her wardrobe, and replaced it with a gorgeous green one. She'd thank him later, he was sure. "What else do you need? Are you forgetting anything?"

Sophie reviewed the mental list she'd made, and satisfied finally that everything was present, smiled and breathed more easily. Howl walked to the portal, dragging the chest behind him, and beckoned to Sophie. "We'll use the black portal, and you'll be there in no time. Come on then, darling."

Sophie took his hand and felt the familiar whirling of dark mists and the sudden crystallization around her of a foreign city. They were outside the royal palace, in the city of Trieste, capital of Strangia and its largest municipality. The place was frightening. Cars sped everywhere, brakes squealing, horns honking, and the air was filled with an unpleasant smoke. The city was grander than Kingsbury to be sure, but dirty. A layer of grime coated every building, every surface. She missed her small country of Ingary immediately. Howl walked with her to an ornate gate, only feet away, where a guard stood at the ready. He blinked his eyes at what he saw, and had a quick word with another soldier, who scurried quickly away. Howl handed the remaining guard Sophie's invitation, and waited as he inspected it.

"Sophie Hatter?" He scanned the document he held, a spiral notebook listing expected comings and goings. "You are early. Your carriage isn't due to arrive for another twelve hours." Well that was to be expected, really, as Strangia was across the sea from Ingary. Sophie's intended journey had involved an airship, then another journey by land, as Trieste was not a port city.

"Our plans changed. And the woman you address is no longer Sophie Hatter. We recently married. You may call her Mrs. Jenkins."

Howl's territoriality amused Sophie, but at the same time she was suddenly glad he wouldn't be joining her. If this behavior were to continue it would grow tiresome, and Sophie did not enjoy the idea of her husband bickering with her good friend.

"I'll alert the palace that you've arrived." The guard picked up a clunky black object and turned a numbered dial on its base. He spoke softly into the device, then replaced it on its cradle.

"Follow me, then. The prince will join you as soon as he can. He is in meetings for most of the day."

"Well, Sophie, this is where we part. I'll see you soon. Promise." Howl kissed his wife gently, and noticed she was crying. He was about to, himself, but held his feelings in check. He waited at the gate as Sophie walked away, and the anxiety inside him grew. This was a terrible mistake, somehow. She disappeared inside the palace, and Howl turned to leave. He hadn't meant to arrive in such a showy manner. He'd find a quiet alley to make his exit.

………….. ………….

Howl spent hours at his workbench, with little success. The potion was still exploding, although now the rings of smoke were blacker and its ignition a bit faster and louder. Markl had left the bench and played outside with Heen. There was little to be learned at Howl's side, today. Howl muttered a curse under his breath, and turned to see Emma looking at him.

"Did you macerate the snake skin?"

"What?"

"Did you grind it up and soak it? You know, macerate. Didn't they teach you anything in school, young man?"

"Yes, Emma, I know what macerate means. And no, I haven't done that. The incantation doesn't call for it."

"Silly boy. You know that most spells and incantations leave something out. And macerating will stop the potion from exploding, I'm sure of it."

Emma was herself today, clearly. It was evident that she didn't have her powers, but her knowledge was intact. Howl realized he should have discussed this problem with her long before.

"You've removed their wings, I gather. A good first step. Much harder for them to escape you that way. And what did you do next?"

"I erased their memory. The practical reason was that some of them remembered me, and weren't too pleased to see me. The long-term reason was that there's no way to bring them back to human and it seemed better to let them live as happy animals than frustrated former wizards."

"I agree with you. It's terrible that they have to pay that price for Suliman's flights of fancy, but there's nothing that can be done. So what's the next step."

"Well that's the part that's taken the longest. I've been removing their power."

"And what have you been doing with that power?"

Howl shuddered. "Well, I certainly don't want it. I've been letting it dissipate, but that takes a while, as I can only work on one wizard at a time."

"You are wise beyond your years, young Howl. A lesser wizard would have taken those powers for himself. But those wizards were corrupt, and their powers would corrupt you." Emma turned to the potions Howl had been working on unsuccessfully. "And this one is to shrink them, is it not?" She laughed. "A good thought. The countryside overrun by large reptiles, benign or not, would not be a pleasant sight. You are definitely on the right track. Try macerating. And leave this out." She pointed to the monkey droppings. "I'm pretty sure that including that was a joke."

Howl did as Emma suggested, and the spell worked. He could kiss her! He turned to the former sorceress and hugged her instead. "You owe me one, boy," she purred. Howl sprinted to the door and turned the portal to Kingsbury. The potion would work now, and in mere hours he'd see Sophie.

……….. ………..

Sophie had sat alone for a while in a chamber that she assumed would be hers for the length of her visit. It was regally decorated, fit for a princess really. It was done up in shades of pink and purple, with feminine touches everywhere, satin and bows, ruffles and pleats, and lace everywhere, as though a sewing chest had exploded. Sewing, Sophie thought. That was something she could do to occupy her time. Sophie opened her traveling trunk and searched for her embroidery project. She'd forgotten it and her sewing chest. She'd be thoroughly bored by the time Justin came to collect her. There were no books in this room, either. Apparently Strangians did not read. Or royal guests, anyway. Sophie went to the window. Her room faced the front courtyard, and by craning her neck, she could see beyond the gilt gates of the palace entrance and into the street beyond. It was as busy as it had been earlier, she noted. What were all of these people doing that was so important? They seemed like bees in a hive, constantly moving, darting about. Strangia was certainly different than Ingary. Sophie sat on the window sill, watching this colony. She missed Howl, she realized. Hopefully, he'd be here soon. If not, it was only five days. Surely she could survive that long in his absence.

She looked about the room for something to do. A black device, like the one the guard had used, sat on a low table. As she looked at it, it rang. She jumped from her seat, quite surprised. Was this some magical tool? How did it know she was thinking of it. She lifted the top portion, as she had seen the guard do, and listened.

"Sophie, is that you?" a voice crackled through the device. It was clearly Justin.

"Yes, I am Sophie. Are you Justin?"

"Yes, of course I am. I trust you had a good trip?"

"Yes, Howl brought me magically. He couldn't come, though. He has to get things ready for your wedding."

"I'm in a meeting right now, but I'll be by for you in an hour. Don't unpack. We won't be staying here. You have lots of Strangia to see."

………….. ……………

He looked different, Sophie realized, when she finally caught side of the prince. He'd cut his hair short since the last time she'd seen him, and grown a mustache. It was the same type of mustache as favored by Ingarians—big and bushy, with handlebar sides, the type that needed a coat of wax to stay put. It didn't suit him, Sophie realized, but it was none of her concern. She smiled graciously as he took her hand, escorting her to a waiting motor-car.

"We've spent the past five years building a road system, so that people can move quickly across the countryside. As you only have five days to spend with me," he frowned at this, "I thought this would be the most efficient way to show you my country." Justin told his driver to set out, and quickly they left the Strangian capital, and headed north to a quieter part of the country.

"When I turned twenty one, I inherited two titles and two estates. I think you'll like Arpeggia. It's a bit wild, like the wastes." They'd driven for hours, and Sophie was a bit nauseated by the speed at which they'd traveled. She desperately needed some fresh air. The car pulled up at a widened spot in the rode, and Sophie saw the magnificent sight of the ocean pounding against large volcanic rocks. The smell of the sea air perked her up immediately, and she smiled. Justin noticed this, and the fact that she was shivering. He draped his jacket around her and watched as Sophie snuggled into it.

"Are these your lands?" Sophie asked, and Justin nodded. "Arpeggia is not far away. You look cold. Would you like to get going? The staff knows we're coming. There will be plenty to eat and a nice warm fire."

Arpeggia was beautiful—both the estate and the surrounding lands. Sophie was surprised to see that the building was modern. She'd expected an ancient seat. It burned some time back, Justin told her. He'd taken the opportunity to sponsor a promising new architect. The result had been this home on the cliffs. It was reminiscent of the conservatory where Suliman had held court, Sophie thought. Several walls were made of glass, their many panes held in place by ornate iron-work. These window-walls showcased an awesome view. But Sophie couldn't help feeling as though she were on display. Like that snake at the zoo.

They had a light snack and Sophie realized she was tired. Extremely tired, really, more than she would have expected from a journey by car, however fast. Justin showed her to her room, and she nearly laughed at the sight. It was almost exactly like the one at the palace in Trieste. 

"I hope you like it," Justin said. She knew then that he'd had a hand in decorating it.

"It reminds me of that dress you sent me. You know, you didn't really need to do that. But thank you."

Justin smiled a sunny smile, and left her.

Something was wrong, Sophie realized. This was not the Turniphead she remembered. Justin was different.


	18. In Which Howl Looks For Sophie

**Chapter 18 In Which Howl Looks For Sophie**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

Howl dashed through the final steps of his transformation of the wizards. They were safely iguanas now, still a bit large, but they wouldn't cause trouble on the island where they'd be relocated. Thankfully, they seemed to be vegetarians. He dearly hoped they'd like kelp, as that was the most plentiful food in their future home.

Howl headed for home, realizing he'd see his love in only moments. He wouldn't need to pack, just change out of these clothes (which had been drenched in lizard spit), quickly bathe (and yes, he'd do it quickly), and through the black portal to Strangia.

Howl hurried through these tasks and dressed in the clothes he thought Sophie would like best. Not his patchwork coat that he'd worn when he first met her, but the cream one, with flying geese triangles running up its arm. Where were his boots? He quickly renewed the pair he'd worn earlier. They were splattered with something he'd rather not consider. He was so glad to have that wizards business finished. Howl sat in a fireplace chair to put on his boots, and felt a sharp pain in his posterior. He swore and reached behind him. It was the piece of handwork Sophie had been working on the night of their wedding. He unclipped it from its hoop, and smoothed it in his hands. On the square of white silk were embroidered black birds of all types, all of them flying, soaring across the white field. The detail was amazing. It must have taken hours to draw these, let alone stitch them. The edge of the silk had a hand-rolled edge, with barely perceptible threads. A bit in from the margin was written a message in small silken letters: _"To Howl, my husband: I will walk with you in the sky, or fly with you wherever you want to go. Know that I love you with my whole heart, and always will. Your Sophie."_

Howl folded the handkerchief carefully, and placed it in the pocket closest to his heart. How had he let her go off like this? Howl entered Sophie's room, intent on finding something small of hers to carry with him. Something that smelled like her, preferably. He opened the drawer that contained her underthings. They were all rather large and bulky, and fresh-laundered, too. None of them would do. He opened the next drawer down and saw a river of green. He removed yards and yards of fabric and finally saw two other garments, both of this same silk. A beautiful shirt that was obviously meant for him, and a smaller one for Markl. Wedding clothes, he guessed. How like her to choose something other than white. Not a one of them would look good in white, apart from him, of course. These were the best-sewn clothes he'd ever seen, Howl realized, and briefly considered changing into the shirt. But no, she wouldn't appreciate that, if it were for the wedding. She wanted to do things properly, it was clear. Howl shut the drawers of the bureau. There was nothing small that he could carry, that would remind him or her, Howl realized, and headed downstairs. He briefly told Markl and Emma where he was going (Cal was gone again), and turned the portal to black. "I'll see you in just a few days," he said as he left.

………. …………..

Sophie had awakened to a dull, creaking noise, as though a large spring (or several) were being stretched. She rose and dressed quickly, determined to find the source of the sound. In the lower half of the house, down a long hallway, she saw how the sound was being made. There was Justin, jumping high on some springy contraption she might have seen at the circus had it ever visited Market Chipping. He jumped and twisted, jumped and somersaulted, and jumped and jumped again. She hadn't known he was an acrobat. He saw her and dismounted easily, jumping up right next to her.

"It's that spell," he grinned. "I still can't shake parts of it. I find that if I don't do this at least once a day I can't sit still. Trust me. I'm much better company this way."

Sophie smiled at the ridiculous nature of the scene before her, although not with ridicule. How his visit to Ingary had changed Justin. A boy of 21 in a handlebar mustache, jumping each and every day in what looked to be beachwear. Why wasn't he writing love poetry to his Giulia instead? He hadn't mentioned her once, Sophie realized.

"Well, are you excited about your wedding?" Sophie said aloud.

"Should I be?" his mood was suddenly dour. "Sophie, royals don't marry for love. I thought everyone knew that. We have almost nothing in common, apart from our nobility. Not like—" He suddenly stopped talking and turned away.

She seemed to be happy to be here, but the time wasn't right. Maybe tonight at dinner he'd ask.

"Well, Sophie," Justin said, changing the subject, "there's a lot to see today. The great bridge of Saint Cyr, the palace gardens in Melbourne. Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

………… ………..

Howl stepped out of the darkness into the city crystallizing in front of him. Again his calculations were off and he was mere feet from the front gates of the palace. Again, a guard saw him and blinked his eyes in amazement. But this time others rushed him, tackled him to the ground, hit him with a club until he was dazed and harmless, and handcuffed his hands behind his back.

"Magician, you are under arrest," a crisp voice said. From Howl's prone position, with a foot on his neck, he could only see the shoes of this announcer. His captors hauled him upright and Howl's head swam. "Threatening the palace is a crime punishable with death, the voice said. Howl, with difficulty, saw it belonged to a smartly dressed man, an aristocrat of some sort.

"I meant no harm," Howl protested, but they carried him off and into a wagon emblazoned with the seal of Strangia.

His cell was hideous. Built to provide minimum comfort, it stretched 5 feet by seven feet. An open commode was bolted to one wall, a small sink next to it with a single tap. Thankfully there was a window close to the ceiling, a long narrow strip that told him it was mid-morning. It would be hard to tell, otherwise. A bright, unshaded electric lamp hung from the ceiling and was illuminated night and day. A narrow cot, also bolted to the wall, completed the room's décor. Howl stirred on the bed. His shoulders hurt, as his arms were still handcuffed behind his back, and his head throbbed from where they'd clubbed him. He had to get out of here and find Sophie. He vaguely remembered the events of the day before, what the soldiers said as they'd pummeled him. He'd threatened the palace, somehow. But how? He'd only appeared… Magic. It must be illegal here. And Justin hadn't said a word. Not a single warning. As a student, Howl had been on several day-long field trips to countries around the world. Most had been magic-friendly, although a few were not. Those trips were conducted with utmost secrecy lest the state find out of the magical visit. They'd never been to Strangia, however, most likely as that country kept to itself, living fully up to its name. It must have been difficult, more difficult than it would have been for an Ingarian, for Justin to be turned into a turnip-headed scarecrow. He wouldn't have experienced magic prior to that, if Strangia were magic-free. Howl wondered how the experience might have changed him. Did Justin know he was here? Had he ordered this? Or was it all just a terrible mistake?

He'd find out later. Now, he needed to get out of here. But what spells could he cast without his hands? They were critical assets, as Howl had never bothered to make a wand his magic-bearing tool. Howl wriggled his hands behind him, and a somewhat nicer blanket appeared on his cot. This was good news. Strangia apparently had only banned magic. There didn't seem to be anything in place to prevent it, however. Just to be sure, Howl tried a few more spells. He didn't need his hands for every spell, just the most difficult ones . He rose from the cot and struggled to the door. A small window, its glass embedded with wire, gave him a view of his surroundings. Several soldiers stood nearby. . Howl said mysterious words and watched them walk away, clearly distracted. He smiled. He concentrated again, and tried to remember a spell that would make his handcuffs disappear. Or a spell to temporarily relax or shrink his wrists. Nothing.

What were his options? With his captors distracted, he could return home. But he needed his hands to do that. And what if he did return to the castle? Would Justin hurt Sophie if he learned Howl had escaped? He needed to find out what Justin wanted. He called out to the soldiers, who were now at the far end of the hall.

"Gentlemen, sirs! Could I trouble you for a moment?" The largest of these men ambled back to the cell. Howl quickly cast a spell to put the man in the best mood possible. It wouldn't hurt to hold at least some of the cards in this game. "Good man," Howl continued, "could you tell me why I'm here?"

"Doing magic in Strangia is a criminal offense, magician." The soldier nearly spat the words out. So much for the good mood. Well, maybe this _was_ his good mood. "And casting spells to threaten the king is a capital offense. They behead your type, just so you know."

Howl did his best to be polite, penitent even. "I surely did not know this, as I am a visitor from Ingary." These words did not make the soldier happier. Who knew what they thought of Ingary here, the land that had kidnapped their prince? "My wife is the guest of his royal highness, Prince Justin. Would it be possible to let her know that I am here? Her name is Sophie Jenkins."

"I might do that," said the soldier, "if you made it worth my while."

Howl grimaced inside at the man's hypocrisy, but smiled his most obliging smile. "Tell me what you'd like, and I'll do my best."

The guard unlocked his door and stepped into the room. His voice was quiet.

"Ten pieces of gold. Right now. That shouldn't be a problem for you."

Of course it wasn't a problem, but Howl had no intentions of being seen as the goose that laid the golden egg. He mustered a protest, and finally agreed. With a bit of theatrics, he produced the coins, and sweat on his brow, offered them to the soldier.

The man inspected them carefully, although it was clear he'd never seen this much money before. He slipped them into his pocket and smiled. A real smile this time. "I'll see she finds out. Maybe it's a mistake that you're here." He left the cell, whistling.

"Sir," Howl asked. "What would it take for you to remove these handcuffs?"

The man stared at him, and Howl regretted the question. Then the soldiers face changed, as though he'd thought of something wonderful. He reentered the cell and nearly whispered. "A love potion. You can do that, can't you?"

"Yes, certainly, if my hands are free. It would be impossible, otherwise. I'd need to measure and pour the ingredients…" The soldier came forward and unlocked the cuffs.

"Be sure to keep them on when I'm not on duty. Our orders were pretty strict about them. You'll have my potion when?"

"This afternoon. It will take a while. The more specifics you give me, the better it will work."

So the guard sat down on the end of the cot and spilled out the story of his unrequited love for the girl he'd known for years, who'd grown up in the next street over from his, who was perfect in every way, but didn't know he existed.

Howl smiled encouragingly as he heard this tale. He had no doubt that the soldier would be on his side after this, and that might prove very helpful.

"Come by at two o'clock," Howl said. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. Not a word to the others, though." The soldier nodded. He'd keep his word. He'd just committed treason, after all.

……….. ………..

Howl renewed the distraction spell and set to work. First, he opened the portal to the castle, although he did not leave his cell. "Calcifer," he called. "Are you there?" A groggy voice replied in an indistinguishable mutter.

"Are you alone, Cal?"

"Yes, Howl. What do you want?"

"Well, buddy, I'm in prison. Looks like Justin had one up his sleeve. I don't think it's wise to come back to the castle yet, as I don't know where Sophie is. I need your help, Cal."

"Is Sophie okay?" Calcifer's voice showed sudden concern. "I trusted him, Howl. I really liked that fellow…"

"Cal, this could all be a big misunderstanding. Let's hope so. What I need you to do is keep an eye on Markl and Emma. Don't let on that anything's wrong. And I need to transport some equipment and supplies, so don't be surprised if things start to disappear. Think up a story in case Markl notices. No dating tonight, or until I'm back, okay?"

"Okay, Howl. I can see this is serious. You can count on me."

"I know, Calcifer. Believe me, I know."

"Good luck, Howl."

Next, Howl made the love potion. It took all of ten minutes, including the time Howl spent to fancy up the package. Presentation, he knew, often made the difference. Now, to find Sophie. He had the silver bowl and candle, goblet and rainwater he needed, as well as the chalk to outline a triangle. But he had nothing of Sophie's, and hadn't seen anything useful when he'd been rummaging through her things the day before. He held out the handkerchief she'd made him. It wasn't his yet, he realized. She hadn't given it to him. It should work. But he couldn't bring himself to destroy the cloth in flame. He carefully pulled a thread from its hem. It might be enough, he thought, setting it aflame.

He dropped the ashen thread into the silver bowl of water and peered intently as the surface rippled, then cleared. There she was, in a car. She wasn't happy, Howl could clearly see. She looked out of the window absentmindedly and appeared to be ignoring the prince. Howl smiled to himself, despite his concern. She seemed to find him as boring as he did. The car pulled up outside a mansion made of cut sandstone. Its striped rocks were unique and lovely, and Howl realized it would be easy to find this place. Besides, there was a sign at the gate. "Castle Melbourne," it read. Howl sighed in relief. She was safe and he'd come to her tonight. Together, they'd find a way out of this mess.


	19. In Which Justin Receives a Shock or Two

**Chapter 19 In Which Justin Receives a Shock or Two**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

Things just wouldn't work out for him. He'd planned a romantic evening in the most beautiful house in the land, and still things hadn't worked for him. The glasses were of the finest crystal, the plates of translucent porcelain from a land far away, and the meal was, without a doubt one of the best his chef had ever made.

Justin sat in his study, completely bewildered. What would it take to get her to love him? He'd shown her his estates, which were far nicer than anything in Ingary, with every modern convenience. They'd sat down to dinner in an elegant, yet cozy room. He'd forgone the formal dining room, with its service for thirty for the more intimate breakfast room, and she'd sat down in delight, looking in wonder at the beautiful appointments, the china, the furniture. The meal had started well enough. A light consommé of beef broth, followed by a salad. But at the next course, she'd paled. She didn't eat fowl, it turned out. So he hastily asked the servants to remove the beautiful pheasant, fresh hunted that day, and not to serve the confit of duck that was to come next, and the braised squab that courtiers raved about. He was hungry now, and realized why she'd refused to touch the birds. They reminded her of _him_. Damn Howl! Couldn't she see that he'd bring her to grief? He'd spent time finding out about this man, after he'd returned home to Strangia. Even women there had come under his spell, it seemed. All had been heartbroken. Every single one. Why would Sophie be any different?

He hadn't realized this while they ate, however. He just thought she had strange eating habits and left it at that. Over a dessert of poached pears in wine sauce, he'd moved closer to her, and gently taken her hand. "Sophie," he'd asked. "You know, I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. I love you even more now. It would… I know I could make you happy. Would you marry me?"

She had paled, gone ghost-white at his words. At first he thought she might be choking. But finally, she'd spoken. "Justin. I think you know how much I care about you. But I can't marry you. You see, I love Howl. And he loves me. And we've…"

Justin couldn't bear to hear those words and had quickly left the room to hide in his study. Yes, hiding was the word for it. He felt cuckolded again. They were engaged, apparently. He'd probably seduced her, spoiled her for anyone else. Why did this have to happen to him?

The phone rang, disturbing his thoughts. It was his father. As one of the king's younger children, Justin did not hear from his father much. When he did, their conversation was typically a short series of orders, never words of encouragement or affection. Tonight was no different. "Son, we've heard from the prison. A magician is imprisoned there, who claims to be the husband of a guest of yours. A Mrs. Sophie Jenkins, I'm told. Do you know anything about this?"

Justin nearly dropped the phone. Mrs. Jenkins? Had that been what she'd been trying to tell him? They were already married? With difficulty, Justin brought his feelings under control and responded to his father, the king. "Sir, yes, Sophie is here, but I did not know her husband had come to Strangia. He was meant to be my guest, but had been tied up in Ingary preparing for my wedding. Will you release him, father?"

"He has been accused of high crimes against the crown, son, and the press has gotten ahold of the story. I can't just let him go. I'll talk to advisors, naturally, as this could affect the cease fire, but don't expect much. He's here for the duration, I'm afraid. We might be lenient in a trial, and not ask for death, but justice must be served. I trust you'll apprise his wife of the situation?"

"Yes, father. Certainly."

Justin hadn't meant for this to happen. He had intended for them to travel by carriage and airship, like normal people, and he'd planned to brief Howl on arrival of his country's laws pertaining to magic. Imprisoned. Yes, he'd thought of Howl as his rival to Sophie, and had planned every thing he could think of to show off his own wealth and success to Sophie, whether Howl was present or not, but he had never planned to hurt him. For the first time in his life, Justin wished he wasn't royalty. He'd had no business proposing to Sophie tonight. There was no way he'd ever be allowed to break his engagement to Giulia. That would be seen as insubordination in his father's eyes, and would simply not be tolerated.

He readied for bed and continued thinking about this night and his life well into the night. He wanted Sophie, so desperately. Even if she and Howl were married, what did it matter? Would a married Howl be less inclined to break her heart? He doubted it. It was probably what had been needed to get her to agree to stay with him. He'd do anything, it seemed, to add a notch to his bedpost. But now, through no fault of Justin's, Howl was imprisoned, and effectively out of the picture. He'd never see Sophie again, assuming he lived.

Maybe Justin could have a life with Sophie, after all. The prince's mind wandered as he thought of the history of his family. "_Droit du seigneur"_ popped into his mind. The right of the first night. The right of the king to take what he wanted. It wasn't Sophie's wedding night, and he guessed she was no longer a virgin, but here she was in his land, almost a subject. She was his for the taking, really. Once she got over Howl, he'd set her up as his mistress, in whichever castle she desired. She'd be his only mistress, his true love. Giulia had agreed that their marriage would be a sham. He'd give her an heir and be done with her, except for state functions. Sophie would be the one who'd truly be at his side. Surely she'd agree to it, maybe even come to love him after a while. Justin fell asleep pondering the best way to approach Sophie with this news.

……………. …………….

She wasn't in her bed, Howl saw, as he entered Sophie's room. And this must be her room, he was sure of it. Then Howl heard her, and silently hurried to the bathroom. She was kneeling on the floor, embracing the commode. He knelt next to her, and held back her hair, pulling the ribbon that had slipped down its length. "Darling," he said, stroking the strands of starlight in his hands, "are you okay?"

She'd tensed at first, until she'd heard his voice. Now she relaxed, her forehead dropping to rest on the seat. "You have no idea how horrible I feel. I think I may have the flu. Are you sure you want to be around me?" She rose and did her best to wash the horrible taste from her mouth. What a position to find your wife in, she thought to herself. She turned to him now, and nearly knocked the air out of him, with the force of her hug. "I missed you, Howl," were the only words she was able to say before his lips found hers and he carried her to her bed.

"How did you get here?" Sophie finally asked. "You were able to finish your work?"

"Emma helped me," Howl said, simply. "I used the black portal. Sophie, we've got a problem."

"Yes, we do. Justin asked me to marry him tonight. Somehow, he didn't know. And I'm sure he's crushed and humiliated. I wish I'd never come here, Howl."

"It's worse than that, Sophie," Howl answered. "I'm in prison. Well, I'm supposed to be…I'll need to be leaving soon, in fact."

"Prison? Why? How? Did they hurt you? Oh, Howl…"

"They saw the portal open in front of the palace and accused me of crimes against the crown." His eyes were wide, and hers soon joined his in size. "Justin forgot to mention that magic is illegal here. The penalty is death, Sophie."

"So leave, Howl! Escape! If you came here, surely you can go back to the castle."

"Without you, Sophie? Not a chance."

"Well then let's leave together! Right now! How could Justin do this to us?"

"Sophie, stop. He may not have known. He's not the king here, only a prince. And I don't think you leaving would be a good idea. Not right away, anyway. We need to make sure Markl and Emma are safe. We need a plan, Sophie. " He paused for a moment, and looked deeply into her gorgeous, soft brown eyes. "Sophie, if we run, we'll be running forever. Justin will share at least some power when he marries Giulia. I'll be a wanted man in Ingary, too."

"I don't care, Howl."

"No darling, of course you wouldn't. I love you, Sophie Jenkins!"

Howl risked another hour in his wife's arms and they shared their love for each other, Sophie tearful at times. She was scared, it was clear, but he was, too. Somehow they'd get through this, though.

Finally, he had to leave. "Sophie. Don't let Justin know that you know I'm in prison. Play dumb. It will help us see what side he's on."

Sophie nodded as Howl dressed. "Howl, I'm not sure I'll be here tomorrow. I think Justin wants to go back to Trieste."

"Don't worry, love. I'll find you. Until tomorrow night, then." He kissed her quickly, and walked through the opened portal.

Sophie cried herself to sleep.

………….. ……….

She awoke, exhausted, more tired than she'd ever been. She rolled over to where Howl had lain, and felt the depression his head had made in the pillow, and leaned in to see if she could smell him. He hadn't looked like he'd come straight from a prison. He'd been shaved, handsome and clean-smelling as always, although unperfumed. Trust Howl to find a way to keep up his toilette, while suffering in a prison cell. She smiled to herself.

She looked around the room. Someone had placed breakfast on the low table nearby. She rose to inspect it. Eggs and toast. She was hungry and lifted a triangle of yolk-dipped toast to her mouth. Then she smelled it, and gagged, and ran to the bathroom. Still sick. The smell of food, any food, seemed to make her ill. She crept back to bed, then heard Justin at her door.

"Sophie, are you ready to go? I thought we'd go ice-skating today. There's a rink quite close to the palace in Trieste. It's open year round."

"Justin, could we do it tomorrow? I really don't feel well."

He opened the door, which was really quite inappropriate, and Sophie quickly pulled the covers to her neck.

"Not well? Sophie, I'm so sorry. What can I do to make you feel better?" Here was his chance, Justin, thought, to prove he could take care of her, protect her.

"Nothing, Justin. I think I just need to sleep." Her face was tired, and rings were visible below her eyes. She was clearly not her healthful self, Justin saw.

"Well, then. Just ring if you need me. I'll be in my study."

"Justin," said Sophie, unable to stop herself. "Have you heard from Howl? I thought he'd be here by now."

Something passed over Justin's face, a fleeting darkening of his eyes. Then he seemed as he had before. "No, Sophie. I'd have told you if I had. Hopefully, he'll be here soon, before you have to return to Ingary. It would be nice to show him Strangia." He took her hand and kissed it. "Sleep well, Sophie."

He left and Sophie replayed his words. He said he hadn't heard from Howl. Did he know Howl was imprisoned? His eyes had changed as he'd spoken to her. He obviously knew something. A chill ran down Sophie's back. She really didn't know this man, she realized. What was he capable of? What might he do to Howl?

Yes, they needed a plan. But Sophie wouldn't wait for Howl to present her with one. She resolved to create one of her own, just in case.


	20. In Which Intentions Become Clear

**Chapter 20 In Which Intentions Become Clear**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

Justin had plenty of time to devise a plan. With nothing to fill his day, he'd sat in his study, drawing out strategies, considering all options. He'd finally decided on the best approach, that is, the one most likely to work. It might not be the most moral or ethical, but he was past such niceties. He was held to a higher standard, after all, and could be counted on to do what was best for all involved. Sure, the details would be messy, ugly even, but that was politics, that was life-- it was only the result that mattered. He deserved to be happy, and so did Sophie.

He wouldn't tell Sophie that Howl was in prison. He'd taken it on himself to burn the most recent newspapers, and had personally made sure that the coming editions would be thoroughly inspected for news of Howl, and redacted as necessary. Sophie had no wireless set in her room (she'd probably never even seen one, Justin realized) and hence no way to find out what was leading the news—that a notorious Ingarian magician was being held for trial in the highly fortified palace prison, Can Cavan.

No, he wouldn't tell her. But he'd suggest that she write to Howl and console her when he didn't reply. She'd forget in time, and see how deeply Justin cared for her, how supportive he was, how steadfast. But the plan was for her to leave Strangia the day after tomorrow, and that would spoil things. How could he get her to stay here long enough to forget Howl, to see how little he cared for her? _All's fair in love and war_, he told himself, as he suddenly realized a way to make her stay.

Sophie had been thinking as well. She'd slept most of the morning, and wonder of wonders had been able to eat something at noon. The light broth and soda crackers had stayed down and she felt ready to travel again. But she was thankful for the time alone. She wouldn't tell Justin she was feeling better, as he'd want to leave straight away. She stayed in bed and thought about Howl. How could they safely get away from a man of such political power?

She should probably confront him-- let Justin know that she knew and throw herself at his mercy. If he really cared about her, surely he'd find a way to let them both go. Surely he held enough sway in his family for them to overlook Howl's inadvertent indiscretion.

But Howl didn't want this. He'd asked her to keep quiet. They'd need to talk tonight, and plan this out. She lay back against the pillows and decided to sleep. They'd be up all night, she was sure, and she didn't want to face another morning like this had been. But sleep was not forthcoming, although the drapes adequately darkened the room. Sophie rose from her bed in search of something to read. This room, like the previous, was strangely empty of books. But a newspaper lay on the table with her lunch tray. She picked it up and noticed it was incomplete. The first page and a few others were missing. How odd. Why would Justin censor the news? It struck her. Because he knew. He'd lied to her earlier.

She read the rest of the newspaper, searching for any information that might shed light on the workings of Strangian law. Was Howl innocent until proven guilty, or would he have to prove his case? Would there be a jury, or a judge, or did cases go before the king? She couldn't blame her ignorance on a wandering mind during history class. Strangia had kept to itself until the recent war. All she knew was that it was a monarchy. Nothing else. Sophie's stomach churned, though not with nausea.

………. ……….

He finally came to her, some time well after midnight. The guard he had helped had been suitably impressed by the potion—his love had fairly thrown herself at him, and he had made the mistake of bragging to his coworkers. The two other soldiers had crowded into Howl's cell, insisting on potions and charms of their own. They weren't quite as bright as the larger fellow, and hadn't asked for gold. Their understanding of a wizard's powers was limited, Howl guessed. They thought he was a magician, not a sorcerer. He wasn't about to set them straight. He interviewed each man, and took his time assembling a potion for each. One wanted winning luck—Howl had tried to convince him that this was a bad idea, that gaming halls would throw him out after a streak of winning hands or lucky dice, but the man had insisted, and Howl really had no choice. The other soldier also wanted a potion. He was happily married, but his wife was somewhat cold. He thought it was that he was not handsome enough. That one took a bit longer than the first—there was quite a lot to change before this man might be considered handsome. Howl had nearly mentioned the option of taking a bath, as the man was, well, pungent was the word. Surely that lay at the heart of his problems. But wisely, Howl kept quiet. He'd add something into the potion to make the man like soap and water—it would do the trick, Howl was sure. While making the potions, a task Howl did quite slowly and theatrically, as the soldiers peeked in from time to time, Howl took the time to recreate the fragrance he so often wore—the soft lavender that Sophie loved. He doused himself with it. It made him feel less of a prisoner and herbalist for hire, and more the man she'd married.

With the two guards satisfied, and with a bit more gold in the pocket of the third, the men had settled down into an enchanted sleep, and Howl had called back home. He was sure Markl and Emma would be in bed by now, and he was right. Only Calcifer spoke to him through the portal.

"She's safe, Cal."

"I was worried, Howl. Couldn't you have let me known before now?"

"I'm doing my best, Sparky, honestly. These guards have been on my back all day. They think I'm their fairy godmother. Honestly. I may need to set Markl to work with all the requests they've had for me."

Calcifer chuckled. It was funny to think of Howl taking orders from anyone, scurrying around creating mundane potions and spells.

"Has anyone official come by the Kingsbury door?"

"Yes, someone from the palace. Emma saw them from the window. But we didn't open up."

"Don't answer the doors. And don't let anyone go through the portals. Take the castle into the wastes, fly in as far as you can. To Star Lake, maybe."

"What are you planning, Howl?" Calcifer's voice echoed Howl's concern.

"I don't know yet. I need to hear what Sophie's learned. How much Justin knows, how deeply he's involved in all of this."

"Good luck, Howl. Sounds like you'll need it."

"Well, I've always been fortunate, haven't I?" Howl's words belied the anxiety he felt. He thought of Sophie, and walked through the portal.

There she was, her hair glimmering, even in the darkened room. She was beautiful in her sleep, peaceful and untroubled. Howl lay down next to her, and pulled her close.

"Howl?" She jumped, nearly knocking into his chin. "Oh, it's you. I tried to stay up, but I am just so tired." She yawned, and stretched languidly, then lay back in bed. "I can't imagine what's wrong with me. I don't have a fever, but I'm sore all over." She blushed. "Howl, even my breasts are sore. I don't remember that happening last time I had the flu." She hugged him to herself, burying her head against his chest, breathing deeply, as she loved his scent, and… retched. She pushed Howl aside and ran to the bathroom.

Howl followed her, concerned. She hadn't quite figured it out yet. Should he tell her?

"Howl, I'm so sorry. It's just that perfume you're wearing—it's absolutely vile."

"But it's that lavender I always wear. Sophie, I thought you liked it." Of all the indignities of this day, surely having his wife turn green with nausea after smelling him was the worst. If this had happened weeks ago, he would have struck a theatrical pose and demanded the attention due him. But look at her, he thought. She drooped against the sink, clearly tired from the spasms her body had initiated. He had no idea that pregnancy could make a person this sick. It demanded his attention, and he forgot the insult to his grooming.

"Yes, you're right, Howl," she was saying. "I do like that fragrance. I love how you smell in it. Like a summer day at the secret cottage. What's wrong with me? I thought I was finished being sick." She turned to him and turned slightly grey again. "Please, Howl, could you wash it off?"

He obliged, and she returned to bed, a glass of water in hand.

When he came back to her bed, her eyes were closed, and she was counting to herself. "The day before yesterday. Yes, that's right." Her eyes opened wide. "Howl, I think I'm pregnant."

Howl couldn't help smiling. She was so honest and open—she hadn't even considered hiding it from him, or surprising him with the news somehow. He laid his hand on her abdomen, and felt the sparkle of life within her, and kissed her gently on her cheeks, then her lips. Then he raised her nightgown and softly kissed her abdomen. "Hello, little one," he said softly.

She looked at him quizzically, then skeptically. "You knew, didn't you? For how long?" He had taken the news too much in stride. He hadn't even raised an eyebrow.

He nodded sheepishly. "I knew several days after, I'd guess. Hard to know—I'm new at this, you know. You seemed different. I didn't know I'd be able to tell, and I was pretty surprised. That spell I cast should have worked, darling. You're not too angry at me, are you?"

"Angry at what? That the spell didn't work? Howl, I don't expect miracles from you. I want to have this baby. Your baby. I couldn't be happier." She smiled, and then started to cry. "That you didn't tell me everything you knew as soon as you knew it? No, I can't be angry at you for that, either. I'm sure you thought I'd want to tell _you_. And you know what? You're right. I appreciate you trying to balance power between us. It would be hard to be completely in your shadow, darling."

Howl smiled. "Do I smell better, love?"

Sophie nodded. "Mmmm, just like yourself." She nuzzled his neck and they lost themselves in passion.

……………….. …………

"Justin knows," she said softly, as they lay resting in each other's arms. "I told him today I was worried about you, that I thought you'd be here by now. He said he hadn't heard anything, and that he'd know if you'd arrived. He had a funny look on his face, as though he were hiding something. Then at lunchtime, the newspaper was missing quite a few pages. Why on earth would that be? Howl, he has to know you're here."

"I think you're right, Sophie. I'm really sad to say it. The man saved your life, darling! My life, too. I don't know why he would do this." _Yes, I do_, Howl said silently. _He wants you for himself. _"I befriended a prison guard, and asked him to send a message to Justin. To let him know that I was here, just in case he was unaware. The guard gave me a reply today. It was clear Justin knows exactly where I'm supposed to be, and isn't planning to do a thing. The good news is, the trial will take months. We have plenty of time to figure something out."

"He's not the person I thought he was."

"No. It doesn't seem so. The question, Sophie, is what kind of person is he?" He turned to her. "Any plan we make needs to be built around that knowledge. We need to think like him to figure out what he is planning. So, Sophie, let's imagine we are Justin. What do we know about him?"

"He was a scarecrow for quite some time."

"Yes, and he came from a land without magic. Can you imagine how frightening it must have been for him to be transformed in that way? He'd probably never even seen parlor tricks before it happened. How might he feel about magic—about me—as a result?"

"Not so good, I'd imagine. Maybe he even blames you." She thought for a while. "We also know he's a romantic. He went out of his way to help me—he was there whenever I needed something. He was really quite chivalrous."

"Down to saving your life. It's clear he's in love with you, and of course he's told you that, hasn't he? How would he have felt after seeing us together moments after breaking his back to save you? And after what Emma said—"

"What did Emma say?"

"I guess you weren't listening. I certainly wasn't. I think we were kissing by then. Emma told me she'd said that she recognized the spell he was under. That the kiss from one's true love would break it. I'm not certain I agree with her assessment, but that _is_ what she told him."

"So he thinks I'm his true love, and that you're standing in his way. Howl, how sad for him. And meanwhile, he's with Giulia, and he told me he doesn't love her."

"And she probably doesn't love him, but that doesn't matter. They'll marry nonetheless."

"So what would he want with me?"

"Sophie, there's no way he could get out of marrying Giulia. He may have been fooling himself when he asked you last night, but he has no say in whom he marries."

"So, again, what would he want with me?" Her face reddened. "He wants me as his mistress—is that what you're saying? I don't believe this." She became quite angry. "Just who does he think he is?"

"A prince, darling. He thinks he is a prince. Do you know how many lovers Giulia's father had? Or her brother, dimwit though he was? Half the court is related in some way to the royals. Not legally, mind you, but definitely by blood. Things work differently for them. The laws they make for us are not for them, and never have been. I'm sure it's the same way here."

Sophie sighed. She was perturbed by Howl's blasé explanation of life in the royal court, but he'd been there, she hadn't. There was no other explanation for Justin's behavior—disgusted though she was, she was sure Howl was right. "So what do we do? Howl, Justin can't keep me here against my will, can he? What makes him think I'll stay?"

"I don't think he'd kidnap you, darling. He'd want you to make the decision to stay. I'm sure he thinks that in time, you'll fall in love with him. That he can give you a good life—a better life than I could give you." Howl thought for a while. "He probably thinks I'm bad for you—perhaps convinced himself that I am planning on hurting you. That wouldn't seem so far-fetched—after all, history is on his side. If I were him, I'd try to get you to see how faithless I am. You know what I mean. Ask him again about me, and see if he suggests that you write to me. See if asks fairly often whether I've written back." He thought some more. "Darling, it might be a good idea to let him know you're pregnant. Most men will think of a woman as off limits during that time." He paused again, clearly regretting his words. "That was indelicate. I'm sorry." He rose to leave.

"Stay, Howl."

"Darling, it's almost sunrise. The soldiers change shifts at dawn. I'm sorry, but I can't stay."

"Howl, I'm scared."

Howl held her hand in his, so that their wedding rings touched. Sophie felt a tingle in her ring finger, and a sudden warmth. "I should have done this sooner." The twin sapphires glowed from within. "If you need me, just speak to me. I'll hear you. I may not be able to respond right away, but I'll get here as soon as I can. Darling, I promise you, this will be okay. Until tonight, then."

Sophie swallowed, trying to push aside the lump in her throat. "Until tonight, Howl."


	21. An Accident

**Chapter 21 An Accident**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

Sophie had never been skating before, but she looked forward to it. It had never snowed in Market Chipping, and like every sensible townsgirl, she'd avoided the wastes where it did sometimes snow. She wasn't thrilled to be spending the day with Justin, now that she was clearer on his motivation, and a day of distractions was just what she needed to make his company tolerable. She'd planned to leave tomorrow, and hopefully Howl would be ready to escape by then. Their life together was certainly exciting, Sophie thought. She'd never reckoned on a life on the run, but certainly she'd never thought Howl would be a part of her life, either. Yet he was, indelibly.

She and Justin had left Melbourne in the early morning. The drive to Trieste was several hours, and she'd told him she'd need to rest before going to the rink. He'd installed her in the same fluffy pastel room as before, and Sophie had quickly closed her eyes and imagined she was in her own bedchamber, with its simple white furnishings, or even better, Howl's. She'd awoken refreshed, only minutes ago, when she'd heard Justin calling her name.

Her face saddened at the sound of his voice. Love was so beautiful—how could it have changed him in this way? She'd asked him again about news of Howl, and he suggested that she write to him. He'd be happy to post it, he said. Strangia's mail system was known for its efficiency, he boasted. The letter would be in Ingary by the day after tomorrow, and although he couldn't predict things after that, he assumed Howl would have her letter in four days time at the outside. "You'll hear from him, soon, Sophie," he said, smiling. He was about as skilled a liar as she, Sophie thought, reading the insincerity in his face. So she'd written a letter, knowing it wouldn't be posted, but likely read, and filled it with warm words about Justin and her hopes that Howl would join them soon.

They went to the rink, and after an hour or so of struggling, Sophie was finally able to remove her hands from the barrier that encircled the rink. She stayed close to the edge, though. It was hard to see how two skinny metal blades could support her body, and she did not quite trust her sense of balance. She was warm, though, warmer than she'd thought be while standing on ice. Howl had added to her wardrobe, she'd found as she went through her things, creating for her a lovely plaid gown, in softest wool, with an elbow-length cape to match. She'd also found fur-lined gloves in the trunk he'd helped pack, and a lovely pleated black bonnet that felt toasty warm against her ears. It was almost as though he were holding her, Sophie thought, and this thought warmed her further.

Justin approached her. He'd surprised her again with his athletic skill. Apparently he'd spent lots of time on the ice as a child. He could spin and turn with the best of them, and he even landed some jumps. He skated backwards now, and grabbed her hands. Sophie gave whoop of surprise as she was dragged along. He was skating much faster than she'd dared, but she felt secure. He obviously knew what he was doing. They circled the rink twice, and Sophie relaxed. If she had to spend time in his company, this was a good way. It was a beautiful day, the sky bright and welcoming, the air crisp and full of autumn smells.

He swung her through a turn, and then his hand slipped, and Sophie slid off on a tangent. Unable to stop, she flailed her arms and cried out. People quickly moved aside, but none thought to slow her down. Perhaps they thought she meant to move so quickly and erratically. She crashed against the barrier, and flipped right over it. Justin rushed to the edge of the ice, his face white. Was she okay? He hadn't meant for this to happen. She was out cold. "All I wanted was a twisted ankle," Justin told himself. What had he done to her?

An ambulance had arrived in short order, and Justin had personally accompanied Sophie to the royal hospital, known throughout Strangia as the finest place to study the healing sciences. Strangia had made great strides in medicine in the past fifty years, being unburdened from the mumbo jumbo of magic during the nation's great revolution.

Sophie awoke in a daze, and with a shudder of pain. Why did her chest hurt? Every breath stung. What about the baby? She began to cry and tears rolled freely down her face as she realized what had happened. Justin had let go of her, and she'd gone careening off the ice. Had he done that on purpose? Was he trying to kill her?

A woman entered the room, dressed entirely in white. A bird-like hat perched upon her head, and Sophie smiled despite her pain. It reminded her of Howl, somehow. The woman was brisk, grabbing Sophie's wrist, sticking a glass rod into her mouth, and glancing at a timepiece that hung from a pin at her waist.

"Good to see you're back with us, Miss Sophie. You took quite a fall. You have four cracked ribs, and thank goodness that's it."

"When can I go home? My husband is surely looking for me. Has he been here?"

"Husband?" The white-clad woman flipped through a chart that hung at the end of Sophie's bed. "Your next of kin is listed as Prince Justin, sweetie. But I'm sure you're not married to _him_. He's marrying the princess next week." She straightened the pillows surrounding Sophie's leg and smoothed the white blanket covering her. She must be a mistress, the woman decided. The prince was starting young, it seemed. "I couldn't say when you'll be going home. That's for the doctors to decide. Are you feeling any pain?" She picked up the small blue bottle on the table near the head of the bed. "This is laudanum. It will make you feel so much better." She cranked up the bed, so Sophie's head was raised, and added a few drops of the liquid to a glass of water. "Drink up. This will help."

Sophie refused. "I'd rather have willow-bark tea. It's always worked well for me." The woman raised an eyebrow, and nearly smirked. Where had this one come from? A turnip patch?

"That's just an old-wives' remedy. This laudanum will help. You'll go right to sleep and the pain will just go away."

"Just leave it there. I'll take it in a while."

The woman agreed. She was busy, and had many other patients to see. None in private suites such as this, but citizens needing care nonetheless. She swept out of the room, and left Sophie to herself.

Sophie turned slowly to her side and pain coursed through her torso. She twisted bit by bit until she could reach the blue bottle, and quickly poured its contents onto the floor. She dumped out the glass, as well. A carafe stood on the table, and Sophie carefully tipped some of its water into the bottle. She made a bit of a mess, but who cared? Well, that woman probably would. With an effort, Sophie wiped the spill with the edge of her pillowcase.

Sophie lay back in the narrow bed and surveyed the room. One very tall window graced the room, and Sophie noted the metal grating that covered most of it. Her room must be several stories up. A pole stood nearby, for opening the very top of the window. Apparently they must be afraid of escapees or daredevils, Sophie thought. What time was it? The sky was dark outside. Sophie had never been in a room this clean, and for a woman of Sophie's talents, this was saying something. The room was absolutely sterile. Pale green tiles traveled more than half-way up each wall, and pale green paint covered the walls above this. A simple brown shade covered the window, and her bed was made of shiny metal. Vertical bars comprised both headboard and footboard, and each had place for items to be attached. There were no frills here, only utililty. This room reminded her of something. She thought for a while, and finally made a connection. The monkey house. No wonder she felt so uncomfortable here. She drifted off into a painful sleep, and dreamed of caged animals and her horrible Howl, locked away.

She awoke to see a man entering her room after a perfunctory knock. His arrogance was almost palpable. He called her "the patient," not even bothering to ask her name, and touched the bandages that wrapped just below her breasts. Sophie was appalled at the liberties he took, but couldn't find her voice. The white clad woman returned, and Sophie noticed how deferential she was to this man. He must be the doctor she'd mentioned.

"How much longer will I be here?" She'd found her voice at last.

The man grunted. "At least a week, my dear. We'll want to make sure there were no internal injuries. Then plenty of bed rest back at the palace."

"But I'm not from the palace. My home is Ingary."

"I think she believes she's Princess Giulia," the nurse said quietly. She almost laughed, as the girl in bed most certainly did not resemble the image emblazoned on the keepsake tea towel she had purchased just this morning. "She keeps asking for her husband."

"A little sleep should put things right. Make sure she takes her laudanum. The pain may be causing her hallucinations. She didn't seem to be concussed." He muttered to himself as he scribbled on her chart.

"You heard him," the nurse said as the doctor left the room. "Drink up." She picked up the glass, poured water and added drops of the opiate. "You'll feel much better tomorrow, promise."

Sophie acted the good patient, and quickly drank the liquid. The nurse smiled, and left the room.

Another man came in then, and judging from his clothing, it was clear he was not as important as the doctor. He held a huge arrangement of flowers in front of him, and he beamed at Sophie as he cleared a space on her bedside table for them. "Someone definitely loves you," he said, handing Sophie the card.

She didn't need to read it. The clashing pinks and purples said more than enough about who had sent the arrangement. Justin had probably chosen each stem himself. Sophie thanked the young delivery man, and stared at the flowers. Suddenly, she felt sick. One of these flowers smelled unbelievably foul. Then Sophie laughed. Very gently, of course, as each breath hurt, but she laughed all the same. She was still nauseated, and this was good news. The baby must be safe. Sophie drifted off, then, peaceful at last.

………. …………….

Howl had experienced a horrible day. It seemed as though every guard in the employ of the prison had visited him, each with a magical request. This was not going to end well, Howl could see, but what could he do? Refuse them? He'd spent the better part of the day fulfilling their requests and night had long fallen by the time he was alone.

And now he couldn't find Sophie. She'd mentioned Trieste, so he'd set off to the castle, and like a shadow, had checked every bedroom. He'd seen a few things he didn't care to remember. The king's hulking naked form had burned an image into his brain, an unshakable image, it seemed. But neither Sophie nor Justin were at the palace. Howl returned to his prison cell and set about to locate Sophie. He was shocked at what he saw as he gazed into the water in which she was reflected. She was hurt, clearly Why hadn't she called for him? He looked about the room, and as the reflection dimmed, he saw the blue bottle at her bedside. He grew cold with fear.

"Sophie! Darling!" he called to her, as he hurried to her side. He kissed her, patted her face. "Wake up, darling, wake up!" This couldn't be happening. Not again. Not to her.

She roused, then, and he felt relief wash over him in a sudden, soothing wave. "Howl. You came. I hurt so much, Howl." Howl reached to enfold her in his arms, and felt her stiffen. He was hurting her. He felt the bandages wrapped around her, and slowly stroked her through them, saying soft, foreign words as he did so. She relaxed visibly, and he laid her gently back against the bed.

"It is child's play to you, isn't it?" Sophie said, with a sweet, tired smile.

"It won't last long. I haven't healed you." Sophie looked at him, and saw the concentration on his face, the tension of his body. Her eyes followed his to the bedside table, saw the look on his face as he stared at the blue bottle.

"I didn't take it, Howl. I wouldn't after what happened to your mother." He relaxed a bit, but she could see he was still in pain. "What did you do, Howl?"

"Nothing, Sophie. I'm just sharing it with you, that's all." He breathed steadily, with an effort, as he pushed back the pain he felt. Then he kissed her gently, over and over. He closed his eyes and touched the curve below her navel. "Hello, little one," he said softly, then his eyes opened, and Sophie saw a mix of emotions on his face. Relief, mixed with the adrenalin-induced jumpiness that comes after hearing about a narrow escape. She could see him force himself to relax, to appear casual for her sake. "So, it looks like you had a big day. Care to tell me about it?"

Howl listened carefully to Sophie's story of the skating mishap. It couldn't have been an accident, he thought.

"And now I'm here for a week. Justin listed himself as my next of kin, Howl. They'll be sending me back to the palace." Her eyes filled with tears. "Howl, why can't we leave? Take me back to our castle. Please, darling."

Two ideas sprung into Howl's mind, and he suddenly smiled. "Darling, trust me, please. You have to trust me. I lived my life on the run before I met you. I don't want to run anymore. I don't want you to have to live like that. There has to be a way to get him to set us both free. And I think I know how."

Howl turned to his Sophie, his love, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "I wonder if you _are_ a tigress. Would you like to find out?"

She looked at him, puzzled. Why was he changing the subject?

"Your familiar, darling. Each of us has one. If I change you to yours, your body will heal in the process."

"Is it safe?" she asked.

"Darling, I would never do anything to hurt you or our child."

"Well, okay, then. Will it hurt?"

Howl laughed. "Not a bit. Might tickle, though." He walked to the door, touched the knob and said the distraction spell he'd used so many times in recent days. They'd be safe for hours, with any visitors suddenly remembering a sudden need to visit the lavatory, a wound on another patient that needed inspecting, or a lost item on another floor. Howl returned to Sophie's side and thought for a moment, recalling the whispered words he had heard years ago. He said them aloud. "_Ostendo vestri. Ostendo vestri verus vultus. Bestia, exorior._"

Sophie did feel a tickle. The room suddenly grew large around her, and a prickling sensation covered her skin. She felt her arms and legs growing thinner, her body growing plumper. What on earth was she becoming?

Howl looked at her and smiled. He should have guessed she was no tigress. A small mourning dove sat on her bed, its eyes as brown as melted chocolate, its feathers a mottled silvery grey. A bird, like him. Of course. They were so much alike. Howl walked to the window, reached with the pole to open the uppermost part of the room's grated window, and returned to Sophie's side. With just a thought, he changed form, becoming a black morph of the species. He nuzzled Sophie, and slowly flapped his wings, encouraging her to do the same. Gingerly she did so, and he saw the surprise in her avian eyes at the lack of pain she felt. He left the bed, and circled the room, beckoning to her. She fledged, faltering only slightly, and accompanied him through the window and into the dark night.

They flew for an hour, until Howl could see that he might be pushing things. But Sophie didn't want to stop. She soared high and dropped to circle him, playfully dive-bombing him. Howl flew back to the hospital and landed on its roof. As Sophie alighted, he said the words to change her back.

She jumped into his arms, laughing, eyes brighter than he'd seen in days. "Oh! Howl! That was spectacular!" She was breathless, clearly lost in the sensation of flight. "How did you ever want to be human again after experiencing that?"

"Well, if I'm human, I can be with you." Howl had produced a stack of blankets, and sat constructing a pallet. He beckoned her to join him, and his eyes grew serious. "I'm not going to let you go, Sophie. I think I know how we can beat Justin at his own game."


	22. In Which Emma Lends a Hand

**Chapter 22 In Which Emma Lends a Hand**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

Howl awoke slowly, savoring the memories he had of the night before with Sophie. They'd spent a wonderful evening together on the roof, and he'd never seen Sophie so delighted as when she spoke of flying. He had realized then what their honeymoon would be—a month of flying together around the world, without the castle.

He looked around his cage, and realized it was late morning. The angle of sunlight through the high window was acute. Yet he hadn't been wakened. In the days before, the requests for favors had started as early as sunrise. Howl walked to the door, and pressed his face against its small window. The hall was silent—no staff were at hand. Then he heard a slamming sound, as if a heavy steel door had been angrily pushed open and then clanged shut of its own accord. Heavy footsteps, too. Howl returned to his bed, and quickly scanned his cell for any items that shouldn't be there. A quick flick of his fingers and all looked fine.

The footsteps ended outside his door, and Howl's cell was quickly crowded. He was hoisted to his feet, manacled, and led out into the hall. His guards, new ones, these, looked straight ahead as they marched him down the hall, through thick steel doors and down several flights of stairs. It was cooler here; they must be underground, Howl thought. Bright lamps hung from the ceiling of the corridor they entered next. It was as brilliant as a summer day in July, but nowhere near as warm. Howl noticed the cells on either side of him. All were empty. It was easy to ascertain this, as the facing walls were made entirely of two-inch-thick glass. He was going to be put on show, it seemed. Howl was never one to shy from exposure. His mom had noted long ago what a showman he was; a ham was what she'd called him. But to have every moment of his day on view, that was something different. He was reminded of the reptile house, and the reticulated python they'd viewed there. It had seemed languorous in its own cell, with its scaled-down props of rainforest life. It most likely had given up, and probably viewed the waves of passing humans as a moving wallpaper of sorts. Well, too much was as stake for Howl to do the same.

Howl was somewhat roughly deposited in his cell, and the most decorated guard had a few words for him. "You won't be doing magic down here, magician. My men are incorruptible, unlike the buffoons upstairs."

Howl looked at him innocently, saying nothing, the picture of the model prisoner. He was as glad as this man to be rid of the constant procession of guards wanting minor magical rewards. Now he'd have time to work on what really mattered— freeing himself and Sophie from Justin's attention.

Howl sat on his bed as the guards unmanacled him. They saw no need for handcuffs, either, so those weren't replaced. After all, they'd be watching his every movement, public or private. They closed the steel and glass door to his cell, and two of the guards were seated outside his room. Howl couldn't hear them talking, which pleased him. Most likely, then, they couldn't hear him. Howl consulted the encyclopedic assortment of spells in his mind and remembered one which made him smile. He lay on his side, facing the concrete wall attached to his bunk, and said words that cast an illusion over the clear glass wall. Now it showed Howl as he'd been minutes ago; appearing to be sleeping with his back to guards. Howl made an endless loop of the scene, adding in all the movements you might expect from a sleeping man over the course of several hours. He then played the moving image. He stamped his feet loudly and rattled the chains suspending the bunk from the wall, looking at the guards as he did so. He heard nothing, saw no surprise or concern on their faces. The room _was_ soundproof, then, but Howl remedied this by piping in the noises of the hall. This would give him warning and hence time to disassemble any works in progress should the guards decide to enter his room.

Howl was satisfied with his work, and opened the black portal, on the only empty wall, calling to Calcifer as he did so. Calcifer was not alone today, but it hardly mattered. It was time he told the family what was going on.

"Howl, how is Sophie--uh, mom? When are you coming back?" Markl's voice was plaintive and he clearly seemed afraid. He had come to the castle door, and Howl could vaguely see him through the swirling mists that separated the two realms.

"Markl, she's okay. She's had an accident, though, and I'm going to need a bit of help. Is Granny Emma there?"

Emma hurried to the door. She seemed spry and alert today, and Howl was glad of it. "We never had that heart to heart, Howl," she said with type of smile usually seen on dirty old men as they leer at virginal beauties.

"Well, Emma, today's the day! Care to join me for a while?"

Emma stepped through the portal immediately, and sized up the situation in the tiny cell and corridor beyond. "What a realistic illusion you've set up, Howl. But who are the cuties in the hall?"

Howl looked at her and shook his head. Was she… growling? She was as overeager toward the opposite sex as ever. Even he had never leered at others in the way he saw her doing. "Sit, Emma," he invited her, producing a small three-legged from thin air. He took the seat, and patted to his cot, which would be much more accommodating of Emma's ample figure.

Emma looked at him, smiling, and suddenly became serious. She'd never seen him this anxious, this afraid. "Howl, you've changed, you know. I would have never thought it possible. I'm… happy for you, you know. For both of you. I've never met a woman as kind and deserving as Sophie. You're perfect for each other."

He could tell her words were honest. Emma, like Sophie, had never been a good liar. She typically said what was on her mind. And he knew, that like Sophie, this honesty and passion had gotten her into trouble.

"Howl, I'm not sure how I can help you. I think you know almost everything I do, if not more. My powers are still gone, and Suliman was very thorough. They won't be returning. But you know," she said with a sudden smile at the realization, "I find I don't miss them. All the terrible things that happened in my life, all the terrible things I've done were due to them. I don't think I ever told you this, but I never wanted to be a terrible, powerful witch. Suliman forced it on me. I was planning on becoming just a simple village witch—a healer and herbalist, midwife, you know. But the academy asked me back to teach when a professor took ill, and I made the mistake of doing the job well. Suliman praised me to my face and damned me behind my back. They sent me packing, without even the blessing to set up in some remote village, any place. I was banished to the waste, and I grew angry. Really angry. I'd never asked for it. I decided if she was going to treat me like a poison, like the viper in her nest, I'd act as one. I let a demon enter me—not a harmless one like Calcifer—a really strong one, a demon of the earth—the force behind the loneliness and grandeur of the waste. My powers grew ten-fold. I was finally a force to be reckoned with."

Howl's eyes widened at this. He had always thought she'd made a deal with a fire demon. At least that was what she had led him to believe.

"But the many slings and arrows I sent Suliman's way did nothing to halt her ascent to the very top of the government. With each promotion, I seethed a little more. That's why I was so happy to meet you. You were her favorite—some even said she was in love with you. I was so eager to use you against her, that I didn't realize you might want some say in the matter. And when that repulsed you, I lashed out. Howl, I am so sorry for what I did to Sophie. But not for what it did to you. As I said, you're a different person. You can love. And you're doing it so well. Howl, you're free of your demon, and you have your heart back." She looked down, sheepishly, remembering that she had nearly cost him his life. "But you know, I never lost my heart. I can love, too. The problem is, I never did, because I was preoccupied with the wrongs that had been done to me. If I could change things… I would. I'd never have gone to the academy, because that's where all of this started. I might have apprenticed with a simple hedge witch, set up a tiny practice, fallen in love…" She was crying, and Howl pulled her close to him, and let her weep.

"I think I can help, Emma," he said when she'd calmed down. He told her of his plan. "Maybe you _will_ fall in love." His smile was real.

"I'd do anything for the two of you. Let me say goodbye to Markl, then. Howl," she turned to him, gratitude in her face, "I won't forget this. If I could, I'd call the heavens' blessings on you and your family. But I can't do that, so… thank you."

…………. …………….

Sophie's day had been quiet, apart from a brief visit from Justin. Thankfully, visiting hours were short, and he hadn't stayed long. She'd asked him for something to read, and he'd returned, arms laden with the type of books and magazines he thought she'd like. She should have been more specific, she realized, as she paged through a magazine filled with drivel. At least the fashion plates were interesting, although Strangian taste was far different than her own. She examined a drawing of a hat, covered in grapes and cornucopia. It was harvest time, but that seemed a little excessive. The matching dress was overdone. Its browns and golds were lovely, but the huge bustle and curve of the corset, combined with all that lace and braid… even Howl might object. Sophie giggled, then frowned as the thought of the sorcerer.

She had tried to get him to tell her, the night before, of his grand plan for their escape. With typical suavity, he slipped right past her, time after time. Did he really think she was too stupid to understand, or likely to screw it up? All she knew was that she would be here for some time, in this pale green prison, like a maiden waiting for her knight. And this irked her, she found. She'd saved his life, after all. She was no shrinking violet or damsel tied to the train tracks. Why wouldn't he let her help with this?

She rose from the bed. Howl had told her not to, as it was important to maintain the fiction of her broken ribs. Sophie didn't care. Why should she lay in bed all day? They'd practiced wincing and looks of pain that might convince a doctor or nurse that she was still injured, and that should be enough, really. Maybe they'd send her home (well, to the palace) sooner if they saw she was up and around. There was a wheelchair in the corner of the room, and Sophie commandeered it, and moved close to the grated window where she could see the world below. She rested her forehead against the grating to get a better view, but traffic was light and there really wasn't much to see.

She'd fallen asleep, she realized, and rubbed the latticed indentation above her eyebrows. She turned to see a beautiful woman making up her bed. "You shouldn't be out of bed, dearie," she said in a voice that seemed familiar. "Come back now, and we can sit for a bit."

The woman's skin was alabaster, her hair the red of autumn sugar maples, her eyes an intense turquoise blue. Her profile was aquiline and regal, but not haughty. She wore the long white gown and pinafore of the other nurses, and had made an effort to contain her long hair in a series of loops pinned under the white nurses' hat she wore. White shouldn't become her, not with that skin and hair, but it did. Sophie wondered how many suitors this nurse had, and saw no ring on her finger.

It was strange. She was so young, not a day over twenty, Sophie thought, but she had mannerisms and the speech of a much older woman. "Who are you?" Sophie asked.

"Sophie," the woman said. "Surely you know me? It will come to you. For now, just let me take care of you."

Sophie did as she said, and climbed into bed, her eyes all the while on this stranger. "Please tell me who you are." Her voice trembled. Was this another part of Justin's plan?

"It's me, Sophie. Emma. Although last time I was this age, I went by Emmeline."

"Emma?" Sophie's eyes widened. "It's you?" She jumped up and hugged her friend.

………… ……………


	23. In Which There Is a Royal Visit

**Chapter 23: In Which There Is a Royal Visit**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

"He really doesn't know you very well, does he?" Emma glanced from the magazine in her hand, entitled "Finest Homes and Gardens of Strangia," to the copy of "The New Ladies' Journal, incorporating Charm and Style," to the overblown floral arrangement perched on Sophie's bedside table.

Sophie smiled wanly. "I think this is how he thinks I should be, or perhaps how he thinks women are in general. You should see the bedroom he made for me at the royal palace. He decorated it himself, and its twins are in his own two mansions. The rooms look like frilly pink wedding cakes."

"Well, he certainly is trying, Sophie. You can't fault him for that, anyway." Sophie noticed a funny smile on the former Witch of the Waste.

"Emma, there is plenty I can fault him for. He wasn't forthright with Howl and me about the laws of this country, and now Howl is in jail. Can you imagine how hard it is for a person like Howl to lose his freedom? And he hasn't even been honest with me about where Howl is. I have no doubt he'll come in here today and inform me that sadly, the palace hasn't received a letter from him. Maybe he'll even have a tear in his eye as he tells me this. Honestly, Emma, why are you defending him?" Sophie's cheeks were flushed with anger by now, but the smile on Emma's lips remained. A somewhat dopey smile it was, too. "Emma, are you sweet on Justin?"

Emma's eyes twinkled. "I just might be. Such a strapping young man our prince is. Surely even you see that, Sophie?"

"Yes, he is, Emma, I'll give you that. But he's almost a married man. The wedding is next week. Why waste your time thinking about him? He's taken."

"Sophie, I've lived most of my years in a state of abject amorality. That's not likely to change, even though I now have the body of my youth. I'd have no problem with having a long-term relationship with Justin, if he'd have me."

"You'd be his mistress?" Sophie was shocked, and forgot to close her mouth.

"Of course. And believe it or not, Sophie, I'd even be true to him." The faraway, distracted look was gone from Emma's eyes, and Sophie could see that she was serious.

"Emma, did you ever marry?"

"No, dear. I was so consumed with revenge that I never had time to nourish any loving relationships. Not that several men didn't try. Gorgeous, handsome young men." Emma's eyes closed for a moment as she savored these memories. "Eventually, a beau would get in my way, so I'd dump him. Or turn him into a toad. Or, worse, he would leave me when I couldn't return his affection. I regret what happened to those men. Truth is, I regret a lot of things about my past life. I nearly killed Howl, Sophie, and while I wasn't totally aware of what I was doing at the time, I _had _been earlier. Before Suliman destroyed me, I did want him dead, Sophie. This is hard to hear, dear, isn't it?"

Sophie's face was filled with a mixture of shock and disgust. She was speechless at the witch's admission. She had wanted to think Emma hadn't known what she had been doing when she'd grabbed Howl's heart. How horrible to hear how premeditated it had been. How close she'd come to losing Howl as a result of this woman's actions.

"Sophie, the thing is that living with you changed me. No one had ever opened up to me the way you did, wanting nothing in return. You cared for me when I was a doddering, elderly fool, and no one would have blamed you if you hadn't, if you'd pushed me off that silly flying cigar like you wanted to. But because you took me in, I was there to see how much you loved Howl, how much you meant to each other, and I realized that wanting his heart for myself was wrong. But I wasn't always thinking clearly – that cigar Suliman put in your mother's bag helped me some, but I was fading in and out of lucidity. Sophie, I'm really, really sorry for what I did..." There were tears, real tears in the eighty-year old beauty's eyes.

"I know, Emma. And I don't fault you. The truth is, people can change if they really want to. You're not the same person who cursed me." She reached up and hugged Emma. "So why are you here, Emma?"

"Well, you must have guessed Howl sent me. It's part of his plan, although I only know a tiny part of it. I'm here to make sure you stay well. Howl doesn't exactly trust Justin to keep you safe, not after your accident."

"Apparently, you know more than I do." Sophie snorted. "That man is so arrogant."

"He is a bit older than you, dearie, and he did spend quite some time in the court. He knows how these types of people think. If he's not telling you everything, there is no doubt that there's a very good reason why."

"It's very insulting, Emma, to be treated in this way."

"Sophie, if you saw the look in his eyes as he talked about you, you'd see he means the best. He loves you so much! He is not the Howl he used to be."

"I don't doubt that he means well, Emma. It's just that... I'm supposed to be his partner, not his subordinate. And I just don't like people telling me what to do."

"Well that's fairly obvious. You are the very definition of stubborn, young lady. And you know, that can be a good thing." Emma paused, and stood to fuss over Sophie's pillows. "Dear, it's good to be the one taking care of you for a change, even though you are perfectly well. I can see you're bothered by Howl's reluctance to share his plan with you. Do you mind if I tell you a story?" She sat again, as Sophie nodded. "Fifty years ago, I made a terrible decision. Suliman, whom you love so well, decided I was a threat to her. Magic came naturally to me, much in the same way it did for Howl years later. Madame Suliman had to study hard to learn everything she did, and sadly, she thought that as long as I was in the picture she wouldn't get ahead. So she smeared me, tarred and feathered me, really, made up all manner of lies about me until finally I was banished. She had been my friend. At least, I thought so, and it really, really hurt to learn of her betrayal. Here's where my mistake happened. I decided to become the person she said I was. And she won, Sophie. After a while, everything she had said about me was true, because I had made her words reality. But that was all my own doing." Emma was silent for a few minutes, as Sophie digested what she had said. 'So what has this got to do with Sophie?' I am sure you are asking. My point is, we each control our own reality to a very large extent. Right now you are angry at the way Howl is treating you. But I am sure you don't know the whole story. You know, you can always decide to be angry with him after the fact, if it turns out he _was _behaving arrogantly. But for now, why not trust him, and live in the reality you deserve, the one where you love each other so madly, so deeply?" Emma's eyes were gentle, and Sophie realized that Emma was truly a diffferent woman than she had been during their first encounter in the hat shop.

"I think you're the wisest twenty-year-old I've ever met, Emma. It's good to have you as a friend. Oh!" Sophie turned pale as she suddenly felt a wave of nausea. "Will you excuse me?" She ran to the bathroom, hands covering her mouth..

"So, dearie," Emma asked when Sophie returned, "how far along are you?"

"Howl told you?" Sophie nearly shouted, incredulously. He was just a peacock, that man, a strutting, vain, arrogant peacock. Was he crowing about this sign of his virility from the rooftops? Did Markl know? Did Calcifer?

"No, no, Sophie." Emma's voice was soothing. "Don't jump to conclusions. You've visited the bathroom six times in the past two hours. Did you know I focused on midwifery when I studied at the Academy? I delivered about 50 babies as a village witch and midwife before the Academy called me back. The signs are pretty obvious when you know what to look for. And you haven't been taking any of this poison, I trust?" Emma reached for the laudanum, and Sophie vigorously shook her head.

"I replaced it with water. I think I'm only a week or two along, Emma. I've only been feeling this way for a few days. It will be good to have a midwife in the house. I can't wait until we go home."

"Look at the time! Visiting hours are over now. You'll be safe until tomorrow, and I'll see you then." Emma stood and leaned down to kiss Sophie on the forehead. "Would you mind if I borrowed this magazine?" She held a copy of "Finest Homes and Gardens" in her hand. "I have some studying to do."

Howl awoke from his evening nap. He'd miscalculated in creating the looped image of him sleeping. He'd forgotten that his cell would be visited at lunch time and dinner, and after Emma had left, he'd decided to look over some books from the castle. He'd been engrossed in a text and didn't hear the approach of the guard, who walked into the room, then out, then in again, shocked at the disparity between the scene on the glass and the scene in the room. He'd run, yelling, before Howl had a chance to confuse him. As a result, Howl had taken down the spell, and the guards were watching him more intently.

So, he'd had nothing to do today but nap. He'd worked out the details of his impending jailbreak and rescue of Sophie. He lay back on his narrow cot, which he'd enchanted only slightly, to be just a bit more comfortable. He smiled. Sophie really would enjoy a honeymoon around the world, and the next few months would likely be some of the best months of his life. Howl was pleased that Sophie was pregnant– more pleased than he might have imagined when he'd asked her on their wedding night about having children. Sophie was meant to be a mother. She was patient and forgiving, yet her children would not run wild. They'd be raised to be good people. Of course, he would spoil them mercilessly, but she wouldn't expect anything less of him. He wondered what this child would look like. He drew mental images of a child with Sophie's beautiful eyes, perhaps with his hair and skin, or his eyes with her hair. Each composition pleased him, which made him realize they should definitely plan for more. But of course, this child and every other would be beautiful in his eyes, no matter what.

Howl's thoughts were interrupted by the clanging of metal, and he turned to see the decorated guard who'd led him to this cell unlocking the see-though door to Howl's cell, then bowing obsequiously to someone just out of view. The door opened wide, and Justin walked in.

"To what do I owe the great privilege of your company? Your highness." Howl swept into an exaggerated bow, then sat down on his cot and stared at the man who wanted his Sophie so desperately.

Justin had clearly memorized what he'd planned to say, but now it came out in a jumbled, disorganized rush. "I didn't know you were here, Howl. Sophie's safe–I've been taking good care of her. Honestly, Howl, if I'd have known that you'd be appearing in broad daylight outside of the palace I would have warned you. My father's men wanted your head right away, but I convinced them to wait. It wasn't easy, Howl." Justin pulled a large pocket square from his pocket and dabbed at his forehead. He noticed Howl's expression and drew back slightly.

"You convinced them to wait. To wait before chopping off my head. How good of you, Justin."

"You don't understand, Howl. Magic is... it's been outlawed for fifty years. It's seen as evil. It doesn't fit into our society. Magicians are seen as enemies of the state."

"Yet your father is ready to marry you to the leader of a country that is steeped in magic. And you invited me here without a word about how my way of life might be seen as a threat to the crown." Howl's eyes flashed. "You've only just found out I am in prison?"

Justin nodded meekly. Then he realized the incongruity of this, and shook his head. "No, Howl, I've been trying for days."

"What is it that you really want, Justin?"

A mask seemed to disappear from Justin's face. "I want Sophie, Howl. I know you don't love her. You may think you do, but you thought that about every other woman you've courted. And how many would that be? Hundreds? Thousands? Even women in Strangia have heard of you." Justin warmed to his subject. "She deserves better than you."

"And that would be...you?" Howl couldn't help smirking at this mustachioed man, still more scarecrow than prince.

"Yes, me."

"And the fact that you'll be married in one week's time figures in how? Or are you calling it off?"

"Howl, you're a man of the world. Obviously." Justin rolled his eyes. "You know how the court works. Love matches rarely have anything to do with marriage. The fact is, I can make her happy. She'll have a safe life with me– I'll take care of her. You have nothing to offer her. She'll be alone for the rest of her life once you decide to discard her. I can't let that happen!"

"Justin, why are you here? Why are you telling me this. It seems to me you hold all the cards in this game you've been playing. I'm in jail. I'm no obstacle to your life with Sophie."

"My father owes me a wedding gift. I will ask him to release you, unharmed, to pardon you, if you, in return leave Strangia and release Sophie to me."

"I can't release Sophie. She isn't my property! Is that what you think marriage is?"

"It's this or your head, Howl. Think it over." Justin stood to leave.

Howl looked at Justin and sighed. "I will do as you wish. But will you give this to Sophie? It belongs to her. She'll know that it means things are over between us." He pulled the ruby ring from his finger, the mate to the ring he'd given Sophie on the day she'd visited Suliman.

Justin smiled, and his face could not hide the enormous satisfaction he felt at hearing Howl's words. "You have my promise as a gentleman, Howl. Thank you." He turned and left the room.

Howl straightened the blankets on his bed and attempted to sleep, but rest was not forthcoming. He lay for hours thinking of his beautiful Sophie. How he wished he'd be visiting her tonight. But there was no way. The guards were relieved every half hour, so even if did manage to put them to sleep, there wasn't enough time to spend with Sophie. He hoped she'd understand. Well, the ruby ring might help. He smiled at the thought of the charms he'd placed on it. He looked at the wedding ring that graced his left ring finger and saddened. The brilliant sapphire was glowing slightly. Sophie was calling him. And he couldn't go to her.


	24. In Which Sophie Takes Matters into Her O

**Chapter 24: In Which Sophie Takes Matters into Her Own Hands**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

She'd stayed up all night, but Howl hadn't come to her. At around three a.m., she'd started crying, and found she couldn't stop. At four a.m., she remembered the ring. He'd enchanted her wedding ring, he'd said, and all she needed to do was call his name to let him know she was in trouble. Well, she was certainly in trouble now. She just couldn't stop crying. She called to him, but nothing happened. She looked at the ring, focused on it, placed it close to her lips and tried again. "Howl, I need you. Please. Come to me." Light didn't issue from the ring, sparks didn't fly. Nothing.

Maybe he was hurt. Why else wouldn't he be here? Were they interrogating him? Torturing him? The sun wouldn't be rising for hours still, so Sophie turned on her bedside lamp and winced as the cold, bright light blinded her. She would read to pass the time. If nothing else, the reading material Justin had chosen for her would numb her mind, and that wouldn't be a bad thing right now. Sophie read for a while about who was who in Strangia, who was known to have the best parties and the most elegantly decorated estate, where exactly it was that the upper crust of Strangian society summered, and where _not _to be seen. "Justin really has no idea who I am," Sophie thought to herself. She imagined living the life described in these magazines, and shuddered. She had learned, as an old woman, that comparing oneself to others was a fruitless task. There would always be someone smarter, prettier, richer. So why not be happy with what you had and take joy in the life you'd been given? As she had learned this lesson, the spell enchanting her had weakened. The more herself she was, the more she admitted to herself the things that mattered to her and acknowledged the feelings she felt (and the feelings of others), the more herself she became. Sophie wondered if Justin really knew who he was. Did he believe the schlock in these magazines? He was not heir to the throne of Strangia, and therefore must have siblings. Did he constantly compare himself to his brothers and sisters? Did he come up lacking?

The sun rose, and soon after Emma bustled in with a breakfast tray. "They really think I work here! No one's asked a single question." This amused her greatly, and she beamed at Sophie. The early morning sun glinted off her hair, and Sophie noticed again how beautiful she was, and how she was even more beautiful when she smiled. "Guess what I heard! They're releasing you tomorrow. The nurses were talking about your amazing recovery. They credit it to that doctor fellow-- that rude one. It will be interesting to see how Justin takes this change in the timeline."

Sophie didn't want to talk about Justin. She couldn't bear to see Emma smile in that dopey way again, so she quickly changed the subject. "Emma, could you tell me a little bit about pregnancy? I really don't know what to expect. My mother didn't tell me much."

Emma sat down, clearly happy to lend her expertise. "Well, now, let's see. How far along did you say you are? A week or two? Well, you're throwing up, but we knew that, and soon you may need to go to the bathroom, you know, more frequently. Are your breasts sore? That will last a little longer. And you'll probably be tired for another month, at least. Your body has a lot of work to do to build a home for your child. What about your emotions? How are you feeling?"

"Well, I'm happy to be pregnant. I've always wanted to be a mother. I'm a little scared, though, about what's in store for me."

"That's not what I mean. Are you moody?"

"Oh, yes. I thought it was all this stress. Last night, I couldn't stop crying. Howl didn't visit, and I was sure he would."

A glimmer of concern showed on Emma's face, but quickly it was gone. "You'll see him soon, dearie. Don't worry." She rose, and tidied Sophie's breakfast tray. "I'll be in and out today. The floor nurse assigned me several patients. They really do think I work here." She smiled. "Visiting hours start soon. When Justin arrives, I'll find a reason to visit your room and keep him in line." She kissed Sophie hurriedly, and rushed from the room.

Sophie lay in bed for a while and considered her friend. "Emma's worried," Sophie thought. She had seen the concern in Emma's eyes when she'd heard Howl had not been seen. "Something is definitely wrong." Quickly she made up her mind. "Well, I'm not going to lie here while Howl is hurting. I've got to do something," she told herself silently. She rose from her bed, and turned to see Justin standing in the doorway, one hand poised as if about to knock, the other encumbered with another enormous bouquet. Blues and oranges today. Was he color-blind, Sophie wondered. That might explain the pale yellow suit he was wearing, blue shirt, and pink bow tie.

"Good morning, Justin. Can we go outside?" She gestured to the wheelchair. "There's something I want to talk with you about, and I'd like it to be in private." Sophie didn't want Emma interfering in this.

Sophie was glad to be outside, although Justin had bundled her up with four woolen blankets. It was unusually warm for autumn, the type of weather that sometimes happens midway through the season, a week or two before a serious storm. The lovely weather buoyed Sophie's spirit and encouraged her to be forthright with Justin.

"I know where Howl is."

Justin looked at her with shock. He hadn't expected those words to come out of her mouth. He had been thinking she'd realized for herself what a mistake she'd made in choosing Howl, that she'd come around and realized Justin was her love. Anything but what she'd said. He couldn't hide his trepidation, though he tried. "What... what exactly do you mean?"

"I noticed the missing sections from the newspaper, Justin. And it's not like Howl to be late. Well, not _that _late. He would have let me know. A nurse loaned me her-- radio, is that what you call it? And I heard the news. That an Ingarian magician named Jenkins is being kept on death row, that he'd committed an act against the crown." Tears flowed down Sophie's face. "Why didn't you tell me, Turnip?"

He almost said, "I didn't know, either," but his mind was a little sharper than that. "I thought it would hurt you, Sophie, to know he was there. Especially after what he said to me." She turned to him, her expression urging him to continue. "I found out right away, of course, and begged my father to set him free. But he wouldn't do it." Sophie noticed his face had changed. About this, he wasn't lying. "I asked him to move the court date back, so there would be more time to figure out a plan of action. My father did agree to this." Sophie noticed Justin had stopped blinking. "I visited Howl daily, Sophie, trying to encourage him. But he was scared, and he began to beg me to free him. I couldn't bear to tell you this, Sophie."

What was he hinting at? What had Howl said to him? It didn't matter. "Please. Justin, you have to find a way to set him free. Howl won't survive in prison, and he doesn't deserve to die for whatever he's done. He's a good man, a kind man. Please, Justin, help me."

"It's not my decision. I am not the king."

"Yes, but you will be king of Ingary, won't you? Howl will be your subject. Isn't the continued peace of both nations important to your father? Wouldn't your earnest request move him? You are his son, after all.'

Justin appeared to be calm, but inside his stomach was churning and his mind racing. This was not at all what he'd planned. She was about to offer herself in Howl's stead. Justin could feel this – he was certain of it. How would he be able to live with himself, and with her, knowing she'd come to him as a sacrifice? That she'd done this to save her lover's life. He wanted Sophie to choose him of her own will. He realized what he needed to say, and the words sprang easily to his lips.

"Sophie, I wanted to spare your feelings. This is so hard to say. I spoke with Howl yesterday. He was desperate to leave. Prison life does not agree with him, and when I told him the best case scenario would be years in jail, he offered to strike a bargain. Begged me, actually. I refused, of course, because what he asked was truly offensive. He said..." Justin turned to look in Sophie's eyes. "He said he would give you to me, if I would set him free."

Sophie's eyes widened, and tears began to fall as Justin continued. "He gave me this to give to you." Justin pulled out the ring, with its simple, wide silver band and cabochon ruby. "He said you'd know that this meant it was over between you. Sophie, I'm so sorry."

"Please, take me back to my room." Sophie choked on the words. He didn't love her.

Sophie had cried herself to sleep and slept for several hours. Emma had wakened her at noon, for a lunch of gelatin salad. Sophie had gagged at the sight of it, and pulled the covers over her head. Emma tried for a while to talk to her, and assumed she just needed sleep as most newly pregnant women do. Emma left the room and Sophie stuck her head out of the cave she'd made to reach for the ruby ring she'd placed at the bedside. What did Howl mean by it? How would giving her this ring signify that things were over between them? Shouldn't he have given her his wedding ring instead? She turned the ring over in her fingers. It was so much like the ring he'd given her before she'd visited Suliman– it's twin, really, except for the color of the stone. Maybe he meant it as a bookend, a way to bracket their time together. Giving her the first ring had been the first sign that he cared about her. Maybe this was the last. Sophie's eyes welled with tears as she spoke aloud. "I can't believe you don't love me." Justin had been telling the truth at the very end, that much was clear to her. "Damn you, Howl Jenkins." The ring's ruby glowed slightly, but Sophie didn't notice.

"Sophie?"

She heard his voice, his marvelous soft growl of a voice, as clearly as though he were standing next to her.

"Howl? Where are you? Why did you do this? Do I mean that little to you?"

"Sophie! Sophie, darling, what on earth are you talking about?"

"You're leaving. You struck a bargain with Turnip. He gets me. You get to go free. I thought you'd changed, Howl. I... " She couldn't talk. Her throat tightened, and her body wracked with sobs.

"Darling, darling. Shhh. Listen to me. Please, Sophie, just listen. Take a deep breath and slowly exhale." Sophie did as he asked. His voice was so soothing, and she felt as though she were wrapped in his arms. "There's my girl. Sophie, darling, I'm not leaving you. Don't you know how much you mean to me? You're everything to me, Sophie. And our little one. Sophie, you're the mother of my child. Sophie, darling, I would die without you. There'd be no reason to live. Darling, are you listening?"

"Yes, Howl." She breathed deeply and hiccuped several times. "But why, why did you say you were leaving?"

There was silence in Sophie's mind, as Howl did not reply immediately.

"You _did _say, it, didn't you? I could tell Justin wasn't lying. Is that what I am to you, a piece of property? Something you can barter away?"

"Actually, Sophie, that's exactly what I _didn't _say. I told Justin you weren't my property when he asked me to give you to him. This was his idea, Sophie, not mine, but when he suggested it, I realized it would be a way to make sure we wouldn't have to run. If I am a free man, not an escapee, we''ll be safe."

"_We_? Don't you mean _you_? You traded me away, Howl! You may be free to go your merry way, but I'll be stuck as Justin's mistress for the rest of my days. When I love _you_, Howl! Damn you!"

"Sophie, do you really think I'd leave you behind? Darling, never, never. I would sooner die than lose you." His voice broke, and Sophie could tell that he, too, was crying. He really did love her.

"Why wouldn't you tell me what's going on? Do you think I'm stupid? If this was part of your plan, didn't you think you could trust me?"

"Sophie, darling, I do trust you, and darling, you're one of the smartest people I know. I just thought it would be better for you not to know all the details."

"Why? If you trust me, and I'm not an idiot, why wouldn't you tell me?'

"The truth is, Sophie, you're not a very good liar. Not like some of us." She heard the self-deprecating smile in his voice. "It's one of the things I love about you– your brutal honesty. Emma's a lot like you, you know. In this way, anyway. I didn't tell her everything either– I only told her about her part, because changing her age and appearance was something she needed to agree to."

"Were you planning on making this deal with Justin all along? Is that why you didn't tell me?"

"Well, if I _had _been planning that, you're right, I wouldn't have told you. But that was exactly why I _wasn't _planning on it. I thought you'd be insulted and hurt, and rightly so. But when Justin suggested it, and gave me the ultimatum of accepting it or losing my head, I jumped at it. And I hoped he wouldn't mention it to you."

"Hmmm." Sophie considered Howl's words and suddenly saw the mess she'd created by interfering. "Howl, it's my fault that Justin did mention it. I was so scared that you were hurt that I decided to be honest with him, and to beg him to let you go. But Howl, why didn't you come to me last night? Didn't you hear me calling you? You said the wedding ring would tell you."

"Darling, I did know you were calling me, but I couldn't come to you. They've tightened up security here. I'm being watched constantly."

"Well then, how will you escape? When are you coming? And how are you talking to me now? Why didn't you talk to me last night? I couldn't sleep all night! I was so scared, Howl."

"I won't need to escape. They're freeing me soon-- hopefully, tonight. I think Justin will keep his word. I'll see you just after I'm released. Can you wait that long, Sophie? I'm so sorry to have put you through this. Will you forgive me?"

"You didn't answer my question." Sophie was petulant, not quite ready to forgive. "Why didn't you talk to me last night? You scared me, Howl."

"Darling, your wedding ring is just a beacon to let me know if you are hurt. It works if you call to me, but it doesn't let us communicate. The ruby ring you're holding, or wearing, does allow that."

"Well, that's stupid. Why didn't you just enchant the wedding ring in that way?"

Howl chuckled. "Would you really want me to hear your every thought, Sophie?"

Sophie realized she hadn't actually spoken much of this conversation, and reddened.

"Sophie? Are you there? You're blushing, aren't you?" She heard the smile in his voice as he teased her.

"I'll see you tonight, Howl." _You'd better bring flowers, great and powerful wizard_, she added silently.

Of course, Howl heard that, too.


	25. In Which Howl Rescues Sophie

**Chapter 25: In Which Howl Rescues Sophie**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

Sophie spent most of the afternoon kicking herself. The kicks were figurative, of course, but powerful nonetheless. She should have listened to Emma. She should have trusted her relationship with Howl and trusted that he'd find a way home for them. But instead, she'd opened her big mouth. She was lucky she hadn't ruined things. Well, she hoped she hadn't ruined things. Would Justin renege on his promise to Howl, now that it was out in the open? Why had he offered to let Howl go, anyway? It would probably be easier for him if Howl were permanently out of the way. But maybe this promise showed that there remained some goodness in him. There had to be. Turnip had been a delightful creature, always there to lend a gloved hand, to provide a cane or umbrella, or do whatever was needed. Surely that aspect of Justin remained. No one is all good or all evil, Sophie told herself. We are all capable of good and bad. Emma was a perfect example of that truism. The things she'd done! Sophie was sure she only knew the smallest part of it, but still. The Emma she knew admitted to killing when thwarted, had thrown devastating curses left and right, and had seemed to embrace evil completely. But then it became clear that she had a good side, too. The elderly woman who'd joined Howl's household had been protective of her new family, and the young nurse now taking care of Sophie was clearly loving and kind. She seemed eager to start over.

Starting over. Was that part of this plan? Why hadn't Emma responded when Sophie had said how good it would be to go home, how nice it would be to have Emma as her midwife? She'd made hurried excuses and had left straight away. And how was Howl planning on rescuing Sophie when he'd "given" her to Justin? Surely Justin would not stand silent after finding Sophie had left Strangia. They'd be chased down like foxes on a royal hunt, and dealt with as savagely upon their capture. Emma fit into this, somehow. Was she hoping to "steal" Justin away from Sophie? "You're welcome to him," Sophie said aloud, with a laugh. But surely, she'd better get a move on, then. Sophie didn't think Justin had laid eyes on this new Emma, and certainly that would need to happen before they fell in love. Sophie realized she really had no idea of what would happen next, and lay back on her pillow to muddle through it some more.

Finally, she gave up. She would trust Howl, and would trust him completely. He'd done the same for her, after all, as he'd waited years for her to come and save him. He deserved this. Sophie rearranged her covers and looked up at the large black and white clock on the wall opposite her bed. It buzzed slightly, and a long black cord hung down from the timepiece, entering a small hole in the wall. The cord didn't resemble a pendulum at all, and Sophie wondered at the many differences between this land and her own. She'd be so glad to leave here. She was imprisoned, too, and she realized how much she cherished her freedom. The clock read 5:00 p.m. Only one more hour until visiting time was ended. She smiled at the fact that Justin hadn't been by today. Hopefully, her luck would hold for another hour.

Emma entered then with a dinner tray, and Sophie found she did feel like eating. The slab of breaded, fried beef, which sat in a pool of creamed corn was not completely unappetizing, though it came close, and Sophie realized that she was really quite hungry. She ate as Emma told her of her day, of the lovely young doctors who were obviously smitten with her, of the jealous stares she'd received from the other nurses, as a result of the attention she'd received. Sophie couldn't tell which pleased Emma more. She'd be going to dinner tonight with the most handsome of the doctors, but Emma promised to return directly afterward. She had a feeling, she said, that something might happen tonight. Sophie didn't ask Emma how she fit into Howl's plan, though she suspected Emma knew more than she'd said previously. Sophie would trust Howl and do her best to play the part that had been assigned her-- the woman unceremoniously dumped by the cowardly, philandering wizard.

Justin walked in then, and Sophie groaned inwardly. Outside though, she smiled, and looked with Justin with what she hoped resembled love and admiration. He hadn't brought flowers today, she noticed, but he did have a package in his hand. Emma stood to leave, and turned toward the prince. He was hit by the force of her perfect beauty, and Sophie could see he was affected, as all men must be. There was something about Emma beyond her physical attractiveness, a charisma that radiated from her. Even Sophie could feel it. One wanted to be near her, to befriend her, to be liked by her. She could be plain as a post, Sophie guessed, and still attract men. As Justin stared at Emma, Sophie looked at her own hands, and saw the two rings. She quickly removed them, placing them under her pillow. She looked up to see Justin tearing his eyes away from the red-haired apparition before him, to give Sophie a warm and loving smile. Emma curtseyed, and hurried from the room, and Sophie and her princely scarecrow were left alone.

"Sophie," Justin began, "How are you feeling?"

"They're sending me home tomorrow. I mean, to the palace." She smiled brightly at him, as brightly as she was able, and he smiled back, thrilled by her use of the word, "home."

"Justin, I want to thank you for everything you've done for me. You've been a real friend to me, and I hope I'll be able to do the same for you some day." She didn't choke on the words. It was easy to say them, she found, if she imagined that she were talking to Howl. Too bad he wasn't listening, Sophie thought, imagining him chuckling at her words, and urging her on.

"Sophie." Justin took her hand. "I'm sorry for what you went through yesterday. I want you to know that I'm here for you." His words were measured -- he had promised himself that he wouldn't force himself on her. She needed to come to him, and he was sure that she would. He pressed the package he'd brought with him into her hands. "I thought you could do with some cheering up."

Sophie examined the flat, satin-covered box he'd given her. It obviously contained jewelry of some sort. She opened it, and was shocked by its contents. It contained a stone-encrusted necklace of platinum, and matching, heavy earrings. The only word to describe it was garish. Sophie imagined what Fanny might say if she saw such a necklace: the words "nouveau riche" came to mind, words Fanny often used, which was somewhat ironic as she was an exemplar of the term. Justin obviously hadn't known which gemstone to choose, because the necklace contained an assortment of them. The stones were of such clarity that they might have been made of glass. But they sparkled too much for that to be true. Sophie picked up the necklace. It had to weigh at least a pound-- A pound of rubies, emeralds and sapphires, not to mention diamonds and other gems Sophie had never seen before. A small village might survive for a year on the price of it, Sophie realized.

"Justin, this is beautiful. But shouldn't gifts like this be reserved for Princess Giulia?"

A shadow crossed Justin's face as he heard her name. "Giulia has told me she wants no jewelry apart from a simple gold wedding ring. She won't be wearing any royal jewels at our wedding-- neither from her house nor mine. And this necklace isn't from either, Sophie. I had it made specially for you. I hope you'll accept it." He gave her a timid, hopeful smile.

"Thank you, Justin. I will." What else could she say? Certainly this was playing the part she'd been assigned. Her acting skills were certainly improving, if Justin's response was any indication.

"So, I'll be taking you back to the palace here in Trieste tomorrow, and once you're well enough, I'd thought we'd travel to whichever of my residences you prefer. I'll be gone after next week, but only for two weeks. Giulia and I will be touring Ingary first, then back to Strangia to meet the crowds in every major city." He sighed in anticipation of his royal duties. "But it will only be for two weeks."

"That will give me a chance to recuperate. Thank you again for your kindness, Justin."

She was his, or soon would be. Justin could sense it. The sadness was gone from her eyes, and she'd devoted her full attention to him, it seemed. He talked for a while longer, telling her of the things he'd bought for her to make her stay in the palaces a bit less boring. She'd nodded, clearly pleased with every choice. He'd taken his leave then, as visiting hours were over, and he had no intention of making the staff unhappy with him, even at this late date. He smiled as he replayed this encounter with Sophie. He knew her so well. Maybe Giulia would become pregnant at once. He wouldn't lay a hand on Sophie until that obligation was fulfilled. There was a specialist in the hospital with whom he should consult on the matter of fertility. Perhaps he'd pay him a retainer, and have him join his retinue.

Justin walked briskly to a steel-caged elevator and checked the sign beside it, scanning for the specialist's name. He did not notice the redhead by his side at first, but soon the charm she radiated overtook his senses and he turned to her. It was the nurse from before, in street clothes now. She was stunning in a wool dress of deepest green, with a velvet cape of espresso brown. She had undone her hair, and it fell in waves to her waist, sparkling in the bright, institutional lights of the building. It took Justin a while to find his voice, but he did before the elevator came, and he offered to escort her at least part of the way to her destination. She agreed, and they chatted for a while (at least she did-- after a short while, Justin realized he would be unable to string words into a coherent sentence while in this woman's company, so he decided to remain silent, and simply appreciate the woman before him). A large, dark motor car pulled up under the portico of the building and the nurse took her leave.

Under other circumstances, he would have pursued her. He might have told her who he was, showered her with gifts, done anything to be under her gaze again. But he was in love with Sophie now, and couldn't be happier. He smiled at the vagaries of Fate. He should be on his way, too, he realized. He had a promise to keep, and the sooner it was kept, the sooner Sophie would be his.

Howl had spent the afternoon in his cell under the penetrating gaze of the guards who seemed quite displeased at the news of Howl's imminent release. They'd received the necessary documents from the palace hours before, complete with royal seal and signature. One guard was angry that he hadn't asked for a favor from the magician. He'd heard about the goings on upstairs and thought ruefully of the country house he might have bought with the gold he surely have received. The other guard was angry, too, but not about the magic. They almost never had prisoners on death row and he'd looked forward to taunting the magician, but never had the chance. So only one of the three people in this cavernous space was pleased to hear the clinking of keys, turning of locks and clanking of metal on metal that indicated a visitor was entering the unit.

It was Prince Justin, again, who conferred briefly with the guards before unlocking and opening Howl's door himself. "You're a free man, Howl Jenkins. Don't ruin it by casting a spell to return home. The police will be watching you until you set sail. I've arranged transport for you." He handed Howl a ticket. "Your car is outside, and a ship will be leaving in three and one-half hours. I've booked passage for you. The car trip will take over three hours, so you'd best be off."

Justin accompanied Howl up the several flights of stairs, through three checkpoints (where he was greeted with the deference due him) and out into the bright, cold glare of the floodlights surrounding the prison. It was one of the beautiful autumn evenings Strangia was known for, and leaves, their colors visible in the harsh artificial light, swirled with every passing breeze. A modest black motor car stood idling, and Justin had a quick word with the driver. Justin's eagerness to be rid of Howl was apparent, and Howl smiled wryly at it, and at this man who thought he'd had the last laugh. Howl settled into the car, and glanced backward at the prison as the driver pulled away. Justin stood there, smiling so broadly that it seemed as though he might split his face. His joy was uncontained, but then again, so was Howl's. In only hours, his Sophie would be free. Howl settled back in his seat with a gentle smile on his face, as he imagined the coming days and years with Sophie and his family.

Three hours later, the car arrived in a port city. A placard stood at the city limits, but they'd driven by so quickly that Howl could not read it. As he's spent the entire journey silent, he did not ask his driver. "Why ruin a good thing?" he thought. Howl felt in his jacket pocket for the ticket Justin had given him, and looked idly out the window. The same car had passed ten times in the course of this trip. The Strangian police could not be called subtle, it seemed. The car drove down to the docks, and deposited Howl right next to the car he'd noticed. Immediately a police officer emerged and escorted him to his passage. They walked down the gangplank together, even after Howl's ticket had been handed over. The ship, Howl saw, was a freighter, which apparently had room for several guests. The accomodations would be spartan, Howl was sure. He wrinkled his nose at the sickening, overpowering smells of diesel and creosote which permeated the air. How good of Justin to have spared no expense. Howl laughed at the vegetable prince's pettiness. Safely aboard, and detached from his escort, Howl made his way to his room. It was not much bigger than his prison cell, but thankfully contained only one bed, and a door that locked. Howl slid the door shut, engaged the lock and set to work. It was midnight, and knowing Sophie, she'd be worried.

"I'm not worried," Sophie said, more to herself than Emma. She glanced at the clock: it was five minutes to midnight, and Howl had not arrived. He hadn't promised to be here tonight, he'd just said he _thought _he might be released by then. So there was no reason to worry. She wouldn't let herself do so. She'd promised herself to put her trust in Howl, to trust him completely. Sophie twisted the rings she'd replaced on her fingers and did her best to calm herself. She took a deep breath, looked away from the clock and delved into a conversation with Emma.

"So, tell me about your engagement tonight. Is the doctor all that you thought he'd be?"

"Well, yes, obviously. I wouldn't have been so late, otherwise." She winked at Sophie. "Once he removed his jaw from the floor, things went well. It was a bit bothersome that other men kept coming up to our table. He took umbrage at it, after a while. So we went to a place that was a bit more secluded..."

"Emma! You didn't! You went to his home?"

"Oh, no, dearie. He's married. We went to my hotel room, instead."

Sophie's eyes widened at the wantonness of this woman, and her face flushed at she thought of Emma's inappropriate behavior.

Emma laughed merrily at her friend's expression. "Sophie, I'm eighty years old. Do you know how long it's been since--"

"Stop! I don't want to hear it! And you and Howl courted not that long ago, so don't make up stories." An image entered Sophie's mind unbidden, and she struggled to push it away.

"At my age, rules of morality just don't apply, Sophie. And I was never _moral_, anyway. Live with it, dearie." She held out her wrist to Sophie. "Look what he gave me." It was a golden chain, really quite lovely in its simplicity.

"Look what Justin gave _me_." Sophie smirked as she passed the heavy case over to her friend. "Just to cheer me up, he said."

Emma gasped as she looked at the necklace and earrings. "Ooh! May I try it on?"

"Be my guest. I'd give it to you, if I thought I could get away with it."

Emma smiled at this, a knowing smile that confirmed that indeed Sophie did not have a clue about what was planned for her escape. The former witch ran to view herself in the bathroom's large mirror, and came prancing back in delight.

"It really suits me, you know. On some people, that many different types of stones might look tacky. But don't you think it suits me?"

"Ladies? Don't I merit a 'hello'?" Sophie looked up to see Howl standing in the corner, a bouquet of spring flowers in his hands, the dark portal swirling behind him. He strode up to his love, unceremoniously dumped the flowers on her bed, and passionately kissed her. Sophie wouldn't release him, and they stayed in each other's arms for quite some time.

Finally, she spoke. "Howl, you're free! I was afraid he wouldn't release you."

"Right now, I'm officially on a freighter back to Ingary. That's what the police who escorted me will tell the vegetable prince, anyway." He turned to look at both Sophie and Emma and put his hands on his hips. "Somehow, it seems typical that I would risk life and limb to rescue my love and find her comparing jewelry with an old friend. I guess I should have brought you something shiny, darling."

He handed her the flowers, and Sophie blushed. The bouquet was enormous,and contained all of her favorites: daffodils and jonquils, white and yellow tulips, some with color breaks, some feathered, white bells, scilla... "You stopped by the secret garden for me, Howl?"

"Well, I didn't think I had much choice, darling." Sophie reddened, and Howl laughed aloud at her embarrassment. "Darling, I would have brought you flowers even if you hadn't... asked. You certainly deserve them. You're just so much fun to tease." She punched him, a bit harder than she intended, and Howl winced theatrically, and staggered a bit for effect.

"Well darling Sophie, are you ready to go?"

"Of course, Howl. But how? Won't Justin chase us when he sees that I'm gone?"

Howl did not answer. "And Emma. What about you?"

"I'm ready Howl. And excited. This is going to be fun."

Howl reached into his coat pocket and produced two crystal vials, filled with swirling, rheoscopic fluid . He handed them to Emma and said, "The red is for Emma and the silver for Sophie. Pretty easy to remember, don't you think?" He smiled at the simplicity of the solution he'd designed. "Just take a small sip. The effect will be immediate."

Sophie was completely confused. Why had Howl given both potions to Emma?

"Cheers," said Emma as she opened the silver colored potion and took a tiny sip. Her transformation was immediate. Before Sophie stood... Sophie. Well, almost Sophie. Her hair wasn't silver, and it wasn't the ash brown color Sophie lived with for most of her life. It was a glowing chestnut brown, a compromise between Emma's flaming color and Sophie's own.

Emma turned to Sophie and smiled. "What do you think?"

Sophie was flummoxed. Then finally she understood. "You're staying here."

"He won't leave you alone unless I do."

"But I thought you... I thought you wanted him to fall in love with you."

"I think he will. He certainly isn't in love with you, Sophie. The idea of you, yes, but he doesn't really know you. So it's not like I'll be pretending to be something I'm not. And anyway, I'm hoping he'll fall in love with Emma," she held up the red potion, "once he spends a little more time with her. And then maybe he'll set Sophie free."

"Emma, why are you doing this? You don't owe me anything!"

"But I do. I owe both of you. And I have selfish reasons, too. I have a chance to be twenty again, and in love with a prince. It's every girl's dream. Except yours, Sophie. But your dream is just as good." She smiled at Howl, without her customary leer, and Sophie realized the magnitude of the gift they'd received.

"Thank you, Emma. I can't thank you enough." Sophie burst into tears. "What will we do without you Emma? Markl..."

"Markl needs his mother, Sophie. Now is the time for you to grow closer, before the baby comes. And I will see you sometime. I promise."

Emma moved to the linen closet and pulled out a cotton shift. "I'd better get changed, if I'm to look the part. Take care, Howl and Sophie."

Sophie ran to her doppelganger, and crushed her with a heartfelt hug. "Emma, thank you. Thank you so much." She turned to Howl. "Let's go home, darling."


	26. In Which There Is Domestic Bliss

**Chapter 26: In Which There Is Domestic Bliss**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

Howl lifted Sophie into his arms and walked into the swirling mists of the portal. He bowed his head toward hers as he moved forward, and as his lips pressed against hers, Sophie felt lost in his embrace. Moments later, he carried her over the threshold of the castle doorway, and seemed reluctant to set her down. Howl nuzzled her cheek and neck as he somehow (without looking) carried her up the stairs that led to the common room, and placed her in the closest chair. But Sophie didn't want to let go of him, either, and it was some time before she removed her arms from around his neck. As she did so, a sudden thought sprang into her head. "Markl!" How had he fared these past days, with Calcifer as his only companion, especially a Calcifer who was no longer bound to the hearth? Sophie sprang to her feet and suddenly remembered that the hospital gown she'd worn these past few days was not quite appropriate household attire. She looked down at herself and realized Howl had already considered this. She had to give him credit-- his abililty to think of multiple things at once was really quite amazing. Gone was the loose blue hospital gown that tied in back, leaving nothing to the imagination of anyone viewing her from behind. It had been replaced by a new nightgown of palest pink, in sheerest lawn. Unfortunately, it also left little to the imagination.

Sophie reddened immediately, as she'd noticed that Markl was indeed in the room, although he was fast asleep on the fainting couch that had been Sophie's former bed.

"Howl," Sophie said, with just the slightest note of irritation in her voice and the beginnings of a scowl on her face, "Do you think you could find me something slightly more appropriate, given the circumstances?

"I think it's perfectly appropriate," Howl said with a roguish grin, but Sophie's expression did not change. She crossed her arms across her chest in a gesture of modesty, and tapped the fingers of one hand against her other arm. Howl sighed, waved his hand, and Sophie was enveloped in a matching robe, of slightly less transparent fabric.

Sophie hurried over to kneel by her son. She pushed the fringe of bangs back from his forehead, and kissed him softly. "Markl, we're home."

"Sophie? Mom!" He was groggy at first, but soon his excitement had woken him fully. He bounced out of bed and jumped into her arms.

"Mom, I was so scared you wouldn't be coming back. And then Granny Emma left, and only Calcifer was here--"

"What do you mean, 'only Calcifer?'" said a sleepy voice from the grate. "I'm a first-class sitter, everyone knows that. I've taken care of you for years. All those nights when Howl was out galivanting... 'only Calcifer,' indeed." Howl gave him a warning look, and the fire demon slipped under a log and was heard scuffling round a bit. He emerged looking brighter, as though he'd somehow spruced himself up, and announced nonchalantly, "Well, I'm off. I hope I can find my demon princess. The things I give up for this family." With that he soared up the chimney and into the night.

"Everything's going to be okay, Markl. You'll see." Howl's words were a comfort to his young son, who smiled sleepily up at his father. Howl detached Markl from Sophie's embrace and carried him upstairs to the boy's bedroom just under the crow's nest.

Sophie followed, and said softly, "I'm not sure I like that his room is so far away from our's, Howl."

Howl looked at her quizzically. "He's perfectly safe here, Sophie. The castle will protect him." He laid Markl on his bed, and pulled a coverlet up to his chin, then kissed him on his cheek.

"That's not what I mean." Her voice was soft but insistent as she followed Howl out of the bedroom, and down two flights of stairs to their own room. "Things will be different, now that I'm expecting. I don't want Markl to feel excluded."

Howl looked at her, a sudden realization in his eyes. "That's why you wanted to wait, isn't it?" Howl ran a hand through his hair, frustrated at the failure of a spell he had been so sure of. "Sorry about that."

"That was _part _of it. I had selfish reasons, too, Howl." Sophie looked at him with a mischievous smile on her face, and Howl realized it was the first time he had ever seen that particular look on his wife's pretty face.

"Selfish? Sophie? Never." He took her hand in his, and began to kiss each fingertip.

"We were talking about Markl." She pulled her hand away, and Howl looked up in surprise at the mercurial nature of her mood. This was part of being pregnant, he surmised. She would keep him guessing, and it would be in his best interest to be as flexible as possible.

"Emma's gone now, too," Sophie continued. "Think how different his life is without her. They were constant companions."

"Sounds like we should take things slowly. There's no need to tell him about the baby, yet. You won't be showing for some time, and anyway, Markl can't stand to wait. It would be torture for him to know about it too soon. And that would be torture for all of us." Howl smiled as he thought of his son's impatience. "We'll see what he thinks about moving his room tomorrow. Or maybe we can just change the stairs. How does that sound, love?"

"You're going to enchant the staircase? You always make things more difficult than they have to be, Howl."

"Not true. Not true at all, Sophie." He sat on the bed and pulled her closer. "For instance, right now, I'm going to do something very simple and straightforward." He slid Sophie's robe from her shoulders, which precipitated a fit of giggles on Sophie's part. As they subsided, she looked at Howl, who sitting perfectly still, eyes soft with happiness, lost in his contemplation of her.

"This is straightforward, too. I love you, Sophie."

She leaned in to kiss him then, and she, too, was lost in her contemplation of him.

Sophie awoke to a cold room. All but one of the blankets somehow had slipped from the bed, and Sophie shivered. The winter air of the Wastes was seeping in through the cracks of the windows, and although the fire was out, it seemed bright in the room. She snuggled against Howl, who lay on his side, arm draped over her torso, and leg curved over her. His possessiveness touched her. Only yesterday she'd thought she'd lost him, that he'd left her. She knew now that would never happen--Howl simply wouldn't allow it. She had not thought she'd love someone the way she loved Howl, and it was readily apparent that he felt the same way about her. How lucky she was to have met him, and how lucky she was that they were a family. She gave her belly a gentle pat. It was no more curved than it had been on her wedding night, but that would be changing soon. This didn't bother her, however. She recognized that Howl considered her even more beautiful now that she was pregnant, and remembered his soft words, just hours before, as he remarked with wonder on the changes he could already see. What a loving partner he was, and what a wonderful husband. She rose from the bed, kissed her Howl on his cheek, and pulled the blankets from the floor. He stirred slightly as she covered him, but didn't wake. He was a heavy sleeper, Sophie knew, and after several nights on a prison cot, she doubted he'd rise before noon.

Sophie climbed the stairs to Markl's room, stopping by the linen closet to find an eiderdown comforter. She lifted the trap-door to enter her son's room, and found that it was even colder there, which was to be expected, as all the walls of the room were covered almost completely with windows. Markl's bedroom had a remarkable view of the land below, and Sophie noticed for the first time that it had snowed. A blanket covered the Wastes, and the castle's small lawn and its railings were barely recognizable. Sophie smiled. Markl was in for a wonderful day. She spread the comforter over the little boy, who smiled in his sleep and rolled over.

She might as well get the day started. Sophie hadn't taken the time to inspect the common room when they'd returned the night before, but she doubted it was in any state she'd be pleased with. Markl knew of the magicked larder's bounty, so he certainly wouldn't have gone hungry in the absence of his parents, but he might have been eating sweets the whole time. Calcifer probably wouldn't have objected to that, as long as Markl threw him one every now and then. Sophie returned to her former room, and searched for something to wear. The problem was that almost all of her clothing was in a trunk in a Strangian hospital. They'd left them behind as Justin surely would have noticed their absence, and Emma did need something to wear. Apart from her undergarments, the only clothing left in her room was the robin's-egg-blue dress she had worn, and ruined, the day she'd met Justin in Kingsbury. Sophie hadn't even tried to wash the mud-encrusted garment, as it had been clearly beyond repair. It would do for now, however, and Sophie reached for the garment, eager to set her house in order. She was surprised to find that the dress was clean, though it needed pressing. When had Howl accomplished this? She smiled to herself. He must have known she'd be up before dawn, and realized that she'd have nothing else to wear.

She hurried downstairs, dressed perhaps a bit too finely for housework. The kitchen _was _a mess, Sophie saw as she entered the common room, and the large carved table was covered with some sort of sticky, sugary goo, and small crumpled squares of cellophane. She set to work on the room immediately, stopping only to light a fire in the woodstove she depended on, now that Calcifer was free. Where was he? He wasn't in the grate of the oversized fireplace. "...with a demon princess," he'd said. She'd have to ask him about this love affair.

The room was cleaned quite quickly. She'd expected it to take much longer, given her condition, and she realized she wasn't anywhere near as tired as she'd expected to be. What should she fix for breakfast? Fresh baked bread would be nice. The larder wouldn't be able to duplicate the fragrance baking would bring to the house, and Sophie was eager to do something to make her family's first day back together memorable from the start. She asked for and found a cake of yeast in the larder, and set water to warm on the cookstove as she pulled out and measured flour and salt.

A short time later, two bowls of dough sat proofing on a shelf near the cookstove. Sophie washed up and realized a nap might be nice, after all. Howl was sure to be toasty warm, and it still wasn't even sunrise.

Sophie awakened to find the room brightly lit, yet almost as cold as it had been in the early morning. The sun was high in the sky, and it shimmered off the blanket of snow disguising the lonely Wastes, but the cold still snuck in through the windows. Howl was not in bed, to Sophie's surprise. She heard his off-tune whistling downstairs. Sophie hurried to join him. If Howl was up, surely Markl must be as well. She had wanted to set a fine breakfast before them. She clattered down the stairs, and greeted her family, kissing Markl and Howl in turn, and leaning in to smile at Calcifer, who'd returned from his nightime jaunt.

"I see you've got a bun in the oven, Sophie," said Calcifer, a mischievous grin growing across the whole of him.

Sophie turned to glare at Howl, who shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. He certainly hadn't told the demon the good news, and wanted no part in bearing Sophie's righteous indignation.

"Buns? Are you making hot-cross buns? Or cinnamon? They're my favorite, Sophie." Markl ran up to her, expectantly.

"Yes, Markl. I'm making cinnamon buns. Would you like to help?" She led him to the worktable, grabbing the two bowls of bread dough as she did so. She floured the table and spilled out the dough, glaring meaningfully at Calcifer all the while. "The first thing we have to do is punch the dough down. Give it a mighty whack, like this." She balled her hand into a fist, and hit the dough several times. Markl stood on the stool and gave the dough his all, nearly tipping over in the process. "Pretend you're angry at it, Markl. We need to deflate it."

Howl left the room, unable to suppress the laughter he felt bubbling up inside him. Sophie showed Markl how to melt the butter and sugar, gratuitously giving him a lesson on fire management along the way. She grumbled and poked viciously at the embers within the cookstove, which had nearly gone cold during her not-so-brief nap. They sprung back to life at her touch, and the wood she added quickly took flame. "Don't be afraid to take the upper hand when it comes to fire," she told her young student, who noticed Calcifer was retreating further and further into his own grate as Sophie spoke. "Calcifer!" she continued. "Does snow affect you the same way as other forms of water?"

The demon looked at her, and realized he hadn't reckoned on the long-lasting nature of Sophie's irritability. It was just a crude expression, after all, one of thousands he'd uttered in his time in the castle. "Actually, Sophie, water isn't a problem to me anymore. I only take the form of a flame because it's comfortable and familiar. I'm pure energy now. Sheesh. I thought you knew that. Hadn't you noticed you don't need to feed me wood anymore?" This was obviously the wrong response, Calcifer realized as soon as the words had left him. Sophie had wanted to hold the threat of a good dousing over him, and he'd just deprived her of that.

She looked at him, mouth slightly open, then burst into tears and ran up the stairs.

"What's wrong with Mom?" Markl asked. Calcifer, wisely, did not answer.


	27. In Which Sophie Has Doubts

**Chapter 27: In Which Sophie Has Doubts**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

Howl looked up from his place on the bed where he lay sprawled on his stomach, reading, to see Sophie enter their bedroom and slam the door. She was in tears as she stormed past him into her former room and flopped on the linen-covered bed, burying her head under a pillow and disregarding the fact that she was wearing her boots, which were not completely clean. Howl closed the oversized volume propped on a pillow in front of him and went in to comfort his wife. He pulled aside the sheer drapes that hung from the four poster, lay down next to Sophie, and enfolded her in his arms. He waited for her sobbing to abate, and in the meantime, used the bottom of his shirt front to dry the tears that ran steadily down her face.

"Howl," she said finally, "I'm going to be a terrible mother. I'm already a terrible mother."

Howl looked at her in surprise and tried not to smile, as he saw how serious she was.

"I... I don't... like... being with child, Howl. I hate the way I feel. I can't eat without throwing up, my emotions are completely out of control and I feel like a totally different person. A person I don't really like. I feel like I'm tied to a pendulum swinging madly back and forth. First I'm happy-- no, _elated_, then I'm ready to scream, or cry... Except a pendulum is predictable. I'm anything but. I can't even describe how I feel. I'm totally out of control. I was hateful to Calcifer just now and..." Sophie began sobbing again, and turned away from Howl, ashamed of what she'd said. "I feel like I'm going crazy," she cried into the pillow.

"Sophie. Darling. Look at me." Howl gently rolled Sophie toward him, as she refused to move of her own accord, and he leaned over her so he could look into her eyes. "None of this is fair to you, darling. Expecting a child is completely _unfair_. I wish I could share it with you." Sophie saw that he meant what he said, and relaxed a bit. "You know, if we were birds, I could share it with you. Incubating the egg, I mean."

"Forget it, Howl. I am not giving birth to an egg." She paused, and noticed how earnest he was. "I appreciate the sentiment, though," she said with the smallest of smiles.

"You're doing a great job, Sophie. It's normal to feel how you do."

"Normal? How would you know?" She looked at him incredulously. "Oh, right. You studied midwifery at the academy, didn't you? Emma told me how it's a part of the training."

Howl looked sheepishly at her. "Well, actually, I didn't. I was expelled before I had the chance. That training happens during the final year of school. Be right back." He ran to their adjoining bedroom and retrieved the book that he'd been studying. "I thought it might be a good idea if I did some reading, though. I looked at this book a long time ago, but it wasn't as meaningful then." He flipped through the pages of the first few chapters of the text. "Would you like to see what the baby looks like right now?"

"Yes. But isn't it tiny? It's not like a chicken egg, is it? How could you even see it?"

"With magic, of course. It's just a simple matter of scrying." Sophie looked lost. "You know, like using a crystal ball. But you're not trying to predict the future, just see what's already there. And you wouldn't need a fancy hunk of glass, either. Just a simple pan of water, and a bit of skill. But we don't even need to do that. We can just look at the drawings in this book." Howl paged through the illustrations in the midwifery text he'd found in Octavius' library. "Sophie, er-- when was the last time you..." Sophie noticed a slight blush creep into her husband's cheeks.

"The last time I what?'

"The last time you menstruated."

"Menstruated? What's that?" Sophie asked, as the term was unfamiliar to her. Fanny had always referred to feminine body functions euphemistically. And of course they hadn't spoken of such things in her classes at school, or even passed out informative pamphlets. Sophie's body of knowledge about the female role in reproduction consisted of what Fanny had told her (much of which Howl had already corrected), and other gleanings from whispered conversations with school friends.

Howl's face turned a deeper shade of pink. Sophie had never seen him blush like this. Just what was he asking her?

"The last time you had your monthly...um, cycle?"

"Oh! My monthly visitor!" It was her turn to blush deeply.

"Sophie, I _am _your husband, you know. It's okay for me to know these things." _Although it's __difficult to ask them_, he added silently, surprised by his own bashfulness.

"Well," she thought for a moment. "I'm three days late, I think. My last, uh, visit started about two weeks before we got married. I was really pleased, for once, because things hadn't been right before then. I guess it took a while for my body to realize I was young again."

Howl laughed silently, not at Sophie's schoolgirl terminology but at her body's perfect timing. Just his luck. That spell really had been completely worthless, after all. He wondered, just for a moment, exactly what it had done to him. Then his thoughts returned to Sophie, who was still clearly embarrassed. "Okay. So that would mean you are at about the middle of your fifth week of pregnancy."

"Howl, how on earth could I be five weeks pregnant? We've only been married seventeen days." She looked at him as though he were delusional, and then a tiny bit of her wondered if he had somehow seduced her earlier without her knowing it. She pushed that thought aside. He'd been completely honest with her about everything, so far. The old, rakish Howl might have done something like that, but not _her _Howl.

The confict of these thoughts was visible on Sophie's face. Howl took her hand within his, and kissed it, then gently stroked her abdomen with his free hand.

"The day you conceived, darling, which apparently was our wedding night, counts as the fourteenth day of pregnancy." He paused to smile at her, wryly, and half laughed. "Don't ask me why-- it's what the book says. Do you want to see what the baby looks like right now?" He pointed to an illustration.

"Howl, that looks like a drawing of a pancake-- like a tiny little pancake. _That's _what my baby looks like?"

"_Our_ baby. Right now it's getting ready to form what will eventually become its backbone. And all of its body parts will come from the cells it has already made."

"How big is it?"

Howl took her hand, and touched the white tip of her closely trimmed fingernail. "Only about that big. It doesn't even have arms or legs, yet, or a brain. But here's what it will look like in about two more weeks. See the lump right here?"

"That must be its head. And...ooh! It has a tail!" She flipped the book shut for a moment, to look at its title, then laughed. "I was wondering whether you'd picked up the wrong book. Why on earth would a human baby have a tail?"

"That will eventually be part of the backbone. And do you see those little paddles? Those will become its arms and legs."

"You keep saying, 'it.' But you know, don't you?"

Howl gave her an evasive smile. "Know what, love?"

"You know if the baby's a boy or girl, don't you?" A note of frustration had crept into Sophie's voice. "Although I don't see how you could tell. It doesn't really seem to have any recognizable body parts." She blushed again, as it was obvious which body parts she was speaking about. "But you _do_ know, I can tell."

He smiled at her lopsidedly. "I wasn't trying to find out. It just announced itself clear as day, when I first realized you were pregnant. I looked at you and noticed something was different, and when I touched you, it was completely clear that there was another presence..."

"_Boy _or _girl_?" Sophie's voice was demanding.

"Are you sure you want to know? Don't you want to be surprised?" Howl was nothing if not solicitous.

"Those are moot questions, Howl Jenkins. If _you _know, you'd better believe _I _want to know."

"It's a girl, darling."

"A girl." Sophie's face softened as she became lost in thought. Suddenly the baby was much more real to her, despite the fact that it hadn't looked at all like her imaginings. Would their little girl look like Howl? She was so tiny, just a little speck, Sophie thought, as she examined the thin white end of her fingernail again. But this little girl was certainly making her presence felt. How was such a tiny thing wreaking such havoc on Sophie's body?

They were interrupted by the thunking of small boots on the stairs. Moments later there came a pounding on Sophie's door. "Mom? Are you in there? Are you okay?"

"You already are a wonderful mother, you know," said Howl very softly.

"Markl, come in." He entered the room as Howl covered up the volume they'd been examining with a nearby pillow.

"Calcifer's not talking. Did you two have a fight? He's hiding in a bucket."

"I'll talk to Calcifer in a little while. We didn't have a fight, Markl."

"Are you sick?'

"No dear, just a bit tired. The trip to Strangia took a lot out of me." That wasn't quite the whole truth, but it would do for now.

"Markl, would you like to go outside with me and play in the snow? I'm surprised you haven't been begging to go out!" Howl's voice was filled with the promise of a delightful afternoon, and Markl quickly forgot his concern about Sophie.

"It looks like packing snow. I'll get my coat. I wonder where my mittens are?" Markl ran out of the room, and up the two flights of stairs to his aerie.

"I meant what I said, Sophie," said Howl, leaning in to kiss her. "Now get some sleep. I'll take care of the baking, and talk to Calcifer, too. He really is clueless, you know. Even more than I am. I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt your feelings before. He just doesn't quite get how humans work. Even after ten years with me." He kissed Sophie again, pulled off her boots, and helped her slide under the linen-covered comforter.

"Howl?" Sophie called as he was leaving. "Thank you for being so patient with me."

He came back to her side. "It's really the least I could do, Sophie. I don't want you to feel alone in this. And believe me, darling, you'll have your chance to be patient with me. I'm pretty scared, Sophie. I've been selfish my entire life. Selfish, and cowardly and vain. Not the best characteristics for a father." Howl smiled wryly and looked away.

He really was scared, Sophie saw. She pulled him to her, kissed him and said, "None of those things stopped me from loving you, Howl. And they didn't stop you from loving me, did they? You're definitely not selfish or cowardly any more, Howl. You kept bombs from dropping on your family, and you saved me from Justin. Not too many people get the chance to act that unselfishly or bravely. You did, and you did well. How could a child ask for more from her father? You already are a wonderful father, Howl, and you have been for some time. Ever since you took in Markl. So go play with him, Howl."

"Dad?" Markl asked after they'd called a truce in their snowball fight. Each had built a small fortress and had titled themselves. Sir Markl had remarkably good aim, and as Sir Howl gingerly sat down next to his son, he realized the young knight had given him several bruises.

"Is Mom still old?"

"What do you mean, Markl?"

"I mean, she's young on the outside, I can see that, but when she changed back, did her insides change, too?" Markl looked worried. "Is she dying?"

Howl looked at his son and realized he needed a reasonable explanation. "Markl. Your mom is young, inside and out. And healthy, too. Quite healthy. But she's tired right now. Things didn't go so well for her in Strangia. And you know how she is. She pushes herself too hard. Did you notice how clean the house was when you came downstairs this morning? She got up at about three, I think, and spent several hours on it."

"She's just tired? That's all?" Markl was not quite convinced.

"She's fine, Markl. I would know if something were wrong. And I'd tell you, son." Howl smiled his most illuminating smile, and it seemed to work.

Markl smiled, too, then stood and stamped his feet, and laughed as they pushed through the crust that was forming on the snow. "I'll bet I can make a bigger army of snowmen than you, Sir Howl. I challenge you to a new battle." He started packing a snowball for the core of his first sculpture and Howl walked some distance away to plan his own.

Howl didn't notice the cold. He'd seen several miserable winters in Porthaven as a child, and had been underdressed for all of them. The sea air had been bone-chilling, and there had been several times it had been so cold that the harbor had frozen. His parents had done their best for him those winters, but a threadbare coat didn't really stop the cold, especially after being drenched by townschildren taunting his poverty. Howl had quickly learned the importance of mind over matter, and imagined himself warm during those times. It was probably because he had a magical gift that he _had_ felt warm and impervious to the physical and verbal threats around him. Howl put on gloves, today, as an example to his son (and quite nice gloves too, of black kidskin with mink lining. He'd make some for Sophie, too, he thought). Markl, on the other hand, was thoroughly outfitted-- Howl had seen to that. Markl surely had felt cold winters himself before coming to the castle, Howl thought as he remembered the shivering bundle he'd found on his doorsteps several years earlier. Now his son would be able to enjoy this time of year. Howl looked over at Markl, and saw that the base of his first snow-soldier was already complete. Apparently Markl was attempting the workmanlike three-stacked-balls-of-snow man seen everywhere that snow fell and children played. His own creation would be somewhat more complex, Howl decided as he finally set to work.

Sophie awoke not long after she'd fallen asleep, to the sound of yelling and shrieking. The yells were Howl's, she could tell, and the shrieks-- delighted shrieks-- were Markl's. They were having a great time by the sound of it. Sophie climbed out of bed and reached for her boots. As she bent over, a wave of nauseau overtook her and she dropped back to the bed and clung to its nearest post. She had felt fine all morning, she scowled to herself. Of course, she hadn't eaten yet, which probably explained why she'd felt so good. She was hungry now, though. She slowly leaned over again to grab a boot, and the nausea came back. Leaning over appeared to have been eliminated from her menu of daily activities... for a while, anyway. Sophie hooked her toes into the boots and deposited them next to her on the bed, then pulled her knees to her chest and put her boots on in a novel way.

She walked slowly downstairs, careful due to a tiny fear that her body might have yet another surprise in store for her, and smelled the cinnamon smell of the morning baking. The rolls sat on the shelf above the cookstove, and Sophie was pleased to find that she still enjoyed their smell, and that, indeed, she was still hungry. The nausea appeared to be gone. She grabbed a roll and began to wolf it down, not even considering the need for a plate, and hurried to the window to see what Markl and Howl were up to.

Markl had built five snowmen, each larger than himself. He'd draped a lovely green scarf around the first (a scarf which presumably had been tied around his own neck at some point, and still should be, as far as Sophie was concerned), and had scrounged for some forked sticks that now served as arms and hands. He'd raided the larder for other items-- his snowmen had typical carrot noses, and warm brown eyes (probably chestnuts, Sophie guessed. What other food items had he wished into existence? What would Sophie do with a larder full of chestnuts?). Markl's snowmen were outshone completely, however, by the sculpture Howl had made, no doubt magically. It stood about eight feet tall, and appeared to be a giant or ogre of some sort. It details were impeccable-- this snowman could have been carved from marble by a master craftsman. It stood on two thick legs, a tunic-clad torso rising above this. In one massive arm it held an equally huge club, and the other hand held a large snowball. A fat neck wearing what appeared to be a spiked collar carried a bald head with eagle-sharp eyes. Sophie quickly realized why Howl and Markl had been shouting. Howl had enchanted his snowman to continue a snowball fight that apparently had been going on for some time. The ogre pitched quite accurately, and deflected Markl's attacks with his oversized bat. Howl stood behind his creation, a wicked grin on his face. It was obvious Markl had no idea how to enchant his own snowman, and even if he could, what good would his creations' thin arms do him?

Sophie laughed aloud as she noticed what Howl was wearing. Draped over his shoulders was the harlequin jacket he'd worn the day they'd met in the alley. Its blue-grey and pink diamonds set off his skin to perfection, and Howl looked just as handsome as that first time she's seen him. His eyes peeked out, as they did then, from behind a fringe of hair, and he captivated her still. But that jacket had been suitable for late spring or early fall days, not for a cold day like today. It was so like Howl to choose form over function, she thought. His dark hair was unencumbered by a hat, she noticed. Such vanity! Wasn't he cold? Sophie did notice his one concession to the weather, the fine black gloves he wore. One leather-clad hand clasped his jacket shut as he used the other to hand a snowball to the ogre. Howl's stove-pipe trousers were encrusted to the knees with snow, and she noticed that his choice of footwear favored style over substance, as usual. He was probably chilled to the bone.

That man has no common sense, she thought to herself as she quickly washed her hands (Howl really needed to install a hot water tap in kitchen-- the water she pumped was icy cold), set a pan of milk on the cookstove to warm, and headed to Emma's old bedroom to borrow a quilt. She opened the portal and stood on the top step, which she noticed had been swept free of snow. A light snow was falling again, and Sophie wrapped the quilt tightly around herself, and covered her head with one corner of it.

She called to them imperiously, like a queen draped in an ermine robe. "Howl! Markl! Come in for some chocolate. You must be freezing to death out here." Sophie had never played in the snow herself, as Market Chipping was in the southern part of Ingary. The first time she'd seen snow, in fact, had been the night she'd encountered Howl's castle in the Wastes. And that had been only flurries, and she'd been ninety-three or so. At that night she had not been terribly interested in catching a flake on her tongue, or feeling them melt into her skin, as she saw Markl doing, now that the ogre had stopped its assault.

"Sophie! Come here!" Howl called to her, and Sophie stepped carefully toward him, ruing the fact that her lovely boots surely would be stained, then shaking her head as she realized ruined boots were of no real consequence. As she drew closer to Howl, she noticed her quilt was gone, replaced by a long, hooded cape of pewter gray, which felt warm and soft against her skin. She noticed, too, she was wearing gloves that were similar to Howl's and quite warm. She stood behind him, and kissed the nape of his neck, and was delighted to feel the shiver that went up his spine.

"Why are you cheating, Howl? It doesn't seem fair for you to be using magic, when Markl obviously doesn't know the spell."

"Ha. How little you know, Sophie. This levels the playing field. Didn't you see how well Markl throws? He was clobbering me!"

"You might be able to throw a bit better if you put your arms into your jacket sleeves," Sophie giggled. "You'd probably be a bit warmer, too. But, of course, you're a slave to fashion. I'd forgotten."

"Cowardly, selfish and vain. I said it before. I fully admit my faults."

"I think only vain still remains, Howl. And I'm fine with that. By the way, thank you for the lovely cape."

"Do you like it?" Howl's eyes lit up. "I saw something like it in Kingsbury not so long ago, and I knew it would suit you."

"It's beautiful. But Howl, will you let me pick out some of my own clothes? I feel like a doll that you're dressing up. It's a bit controlling, don't you think?"

"But if you pick out the clothes, they'll all have necklines up to here," he motioned to his chin, "and will be very drab and boring. Don't you remember that horrible blue dress you used to wear? And the matching green one that day we met?" He rolled his eyes and shuddered theatrically, then noticed Sophie was not laughing. "How about if you choose enough clothes to satisfy you, and I give you more as presents every now and then? One can never have too many clothes, you know."

"Will you have that engraved on your tombstone, Howl?"

"Hmm. Probably should. Truer words were never spoken. Of course, I have no plans to die, so long as you're around."

A snowball sailed past them just then, and Sophie and Howl discovered that Markl had replenished his arsenal while his parents had been speaking.

"Sir Markl!" Howl shouted. "Rules of engagement. Don't you know it's completely inappropriate for knights to resume battle when a lady is on the field? Lay down your arms at once. If we're going to have a war, I'd like, at the very least, for it to follow some rules."

"Sophie! Mom!" cried Markl.

"_Lady _Sophie," corrected Howl.

"_Lady _Sophie, whose side are you on?"

"I'm on no one's side, Markl. I just want both of you to come inside. Aren't you cold?"

"I'm not cold," Markl replied, teeth chattering. His cheeks were pink, his nose bright red. "Whose side are you on? I was winning before Dad made that _thing_ over there. You should see how Dad throws! He couldn't hit the broad end of a barn! Now I'm outnumbered, two to one."

"You're hardly outnumbered, young knight," Howl interrupted. "You have five men. I only have one."

"You should be on my side, mom, and we can even things up. You could be my vassal."

"But, Sir Markl," said Howl. "I'm wearing Lady Sophie's favor."

_My favor? _Sophie thought_. What is he talking about? _Markl seemed equally confused.

"When a lady gives a favor to a knight, that means she's on his side. It means she's rooting for him," Howl continued. He pulled out the silk square Sophie had embroidered with black birds and her words of love. "See? Sophie's favor." He waved the handkerchief like a banner, smiled smugly, then tucked the cloth through an unused buttonhole on his jacket.

_When had he found it? _Sophie wondered silently. She hadn't even completed it yet. "Come inside, both of you. This instant." Sophie stalked off, not quite sure what she was angry about, but definitely sure of her mood.


	28. In Which There Is a Lover’s Spat

**Chapter 28: In Which There Is a Lover's Spat**

_Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle and the characters portrayed within that book and movie are the sole property of the talented Diana Wynne Jones and Hayao Miyazaki/Studio Ghibli. They are not my property. _

_Author's note: It's taken me a long time to get this posted, and I apologize for that. I've sat on this for a while, because I wasn't happy with how it's written, and because I've been struggling with writer's block as I've considered how I want this story to develop. I've finally worked out an outline I'm happy with, and I will be updating regularly from now on._

_Thanks to EbonyDesire for her review of this chapter-- although it was quite some time ago, and she probably doesn't remember. And thanks to those of you who've reviewed and encouraged me to continue. -- sakura_

Sophie silently prepared the hot chocolate she'd offered, chopping dark chocolate into small chunks and stirring them into the scalded milk, then adding a bit of sugar and a hint of cinnamon to the mixture. She used the hand-carved molinillo she'd found among the items that furnished the kitchen to whip the liquid, and ladled the frothy, fragrant treat into large earthen mugs. Markl eagerly grabbed his mug from Sophie and wrapped his hands around it, savoring the warmth that quickly entered his cold, reddened hands. Howl took his with a questioning smile. He'd noticed the rigidity with which Sophie held herself, but couldn't figure out why she seemed disturbed.

Sophie ladled a mug of chocolate for herself, then took the chair farthest from Howl. Each time she looked at Howl he did something silly. First puppy dog eyes, then some eye-batting, then a quick air kiss. He knew he was in trouble, apparently. Sophie almost laughed, despite her mood, then quickly decided that the room needed her attention. She focused her efforts at the mess at the bottom of the stairs. A jumble of water-soaked boots lay there, and in an effort to avoid the nausea that would likely greet her should she bend at the waist, Sophie gingerly lowered herself to the pile by half-curtseying, half-genuflecting. She heard a soft snicker as she did so, and this did nothing to improve her mood. She bundled the boots, water-logged mittens and fine leather gloves to her, and carried them up the stairs. She arranged these items on a chair she pulled close to the cookstove, so that they might be dry by the time they were needed again.

She needed some distance, that much was clear to her as she flopped into an arm chair that faced the common room's front window. She leaned forward, resting her chin on the window sill, and looked out at the beautiful winter scene. She had been eager to join Howl and Markl outside, to enjoy for the first time the delights of playing in the snow, but somehow, things had not turned out as she expected. Sophie sighed, and ignored the sound of Howl moving across the room. _What made me so angry?_ she wondered. Was it the fact that Howl had insulted her taste in clothes? No, she realized, it wasn't that. Howl was always clowning around, and to be honest, Sophie had realized the clothes she had worn while in Market Chipping had been much more suitable for a dowdy ninety-three-year-old than for a girl of eighteen. So why had it bothered her so much? And that wasn't the only thing. She found Howl's use of the snow ogre to be troublesome– it seemed as though he were competing, no holds barred, with Markl. And the handkerchief! It _was _his– she had made it for him, but the way he'd waved it, as though she were his property. That had been the final straw.

She felt Howl's hand on her shoulder, and his chin gently resting on the crown of her head.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"I'm just tired, Howl."

"Hmm." He didn't seem to buy that excuse.

Sophie heard a tinkling, chiming noise like that of a wind chime. Howl jumped. He bounded up the stairs, and slammed a door open, and then, as quickly, came running back down.

"Well," Howl said, a grim smile on his face, "we'll be moving tomorrow. Justin has just arrived in Ingary. Sooner than I would have expected."

Sophie looked at him as he crossed the room to return to her side. The question she intended to ask was telegraphed by the look of surprise on her face. She had thought they wouldn't be on the run– that Howl's plan had obviated that need.

"Sophie, it wouldn't do for Justin to hear that the love of his life is in Ingary, not back in Strangia where he left her."

"Oh. Right." Her dismay was evident.

"It won't be for long. Just until he goes back to his own blessed country."

"Right."

"Your mother and stepfather are abroad, aren't they? Where did you say they are?"

"I _didn't _say." Sophie's annoyance was palpable. "My stepfather is a bit of a gambler, apparently. One of his homes is on the Emerald Coast. They'll be there for the next few months."

"Ah." There was a look of recognition on Howl's face. The Emerald Coast was well-known to Ingary's upper crust. The principality was renowned for its casinos and lavish entertainment.

"I take it you've been there." Sophie's voice was a bit acerbic. _Of course he's been there! _Sophie chided herself. _This is Howl we're talking about. How could he resist?_

"Actually, no." Howl smiled. "Sorcerers tend not to be welcomed into houses of gambling. But I've heard tell that it's an amazing place. We'll set off for there tomorrow. We won't need to move the portals. I have a feeling Calcifer will be pleased to fly us there." He leaned into her and said quite softly, "And maybe while we're there, we can take our honeymoon. I've planned something really special for us, darling."

Sophie blanched at the thought of seeing her mother on such short notice. Fanny would not be pleased at their elopement. Sophie found herself growing angry again.

"Well, if that's the case, I have work to do." She quickly left her chair and headed upstairs.

...o ...o ...

Sophie leaned over the bed in her old room. Yards of silken green fabric lay neatly folded on the bed, and she'd cut and spread flat on the bed a smaller amount of the yardage. She'd removed her bodice and skirt, and began to pin the outlines of one sewn component to the cloth. It was difficult to use a completed garment as a pattern, more difficult because the pattern pieces that made up a bodice were curved and darted, but it was certainly doable. And she needed to do it. Fanny would no doubt insist on a wedding and fly into a dervish of activity as soon as they arrived. She'd drag Sophie to the finest clothier and insist on a frilly, overdone nightmare of a wedding dress unless Sophie had an alternative to show her, and was adamant to boot. Sophie realized there was little she could do about other aspects of the wedding, of which Fanny would undoubtedly wrest control, but she wanted at least the clothing they wore to be something that she herself liked. Thankfully, Howl's and Markl's shirts were completed.

This wasn't going well. She needed silk pins to avoid making large holes in the fabric. The pins she had were for cotton and somewhat larger gauge. She needed chalk to mark the outlines of the pattern pieces properly. Well there was probably some of that downstairs. She fumed as she worked. Why hadn't Howl mentioned that they'd need to leave the country? Why hadn't he consulted her on their travel plans? Did he really think she was that useless?

Sophie looked up to see Howl in the doorway, staring at her quizzically, but with a certain look in his eye.

"Don't stop on my account," he said wolfishly, as she began to straighten up. "The view from here is enchanting."

Sophie blushed, despite herself. "Is there something I can do for you, Howl?"

"Oh, I just thought we could spend some time together."

"I'm kind of busy, Howl." Sophie pointed to the cloth on the bed. "I really don't want Fanny forcing me into some lacy, white monstrosity."

"Lacy, white, monstrosity?" The purpose for the many yards of green fabric, and for the matching green shirts already made by Sophie's talented hands slowly dawned on Howl. He was suddenly very glad he'd decided against wearing the shirt when he'd found it, days earlier. "She's going to want a wedding, isn't she?"

Sophie nodded vigorously, while leaning back over the bed. "A lavish wedding. With every acquaintance and business relation of the Sacheverell-Smiths in attendance."

"Hmm. Nothing wrong with a lavish wedding. Some people show their love that way, with extravagant gifts. And I certainly would love to show you off." Howl knelt on the bed and pulled Sophie into a gentle embrace.

"I really can't wait to meet the woman. If she's anything like you..."

"She's nothing like me, Howl!" Sophie snapped, smoothing out the fabric Howl had rumpled when he climbed on the bed. She then said more softly, "I'm nothing like her. At least, I hope I'm not."

Howl retreated to the inglenook, and flicked his fingers to start a small fire in the cold fireplace. He crossed his arms in amusement as he looked at his young wife. She was certainly angry about something, but darned if he knew what.

"Would you like to talk about it, Sophie?" he asked gently.

"There's nothing to talk about, Howl. I'm in a bad mood, and I'm pregnant, and undoubtedly the pendulum will be swinging back the other way soon, and I'll be over the moon with joy over something inconsequential. So why bother talking about it?"

"I'd like to talk, Sophie. I'll wait until you're ready." Howl conjured the three-legged footstool that typically sat before Calcifer's fireplace and rested his stocking-clad feet on it, stretching his long legs out as he did so. He yawned theatrically, waving his hand lazily before his mouth as he did so.

Sophie just about growled at him. "Make yourself useful then. Fetch me some chalk."

"Yes, ma'am," Howl said with a grin and a bow, and hurried out of the room.

He returned with several pieces of chalk, some long, some short, and took his seat, watching her actions with interest.

"I had no idea making a garment was such an involved process."

"It usually isn't. One typically starts with a paper pattern, or even better, drapes the cloth over a dress-form."

"Would you like some help? I could..."

"Howl, I want to make this myself. No magic. I want something for that day to be from my hands. Do you understand?"

"Yes. I think I do. But doesn't your back hurt from leaning over like that for so long?"

Sophie started to cry. "Yes, my back hurts. And there's no way I'll get this done on time."

"Well then. We'll delay our arrival. I'm sure we can convince Calcifer to take the scenic route. And if I can't, I'm sure you can. That demon would do anything for you, love." Howl drew close again and pulled her into his arms.

"Close your eyes." Sophie did so, and felt Howl's hands slip under the bottom edge of her corset to massage her back. "I'm guessing it hurts right about here."

"Mmm." Sophie rested her head on Howl's shoulder, as he kneaded the pain away.

"Now stand up straight, and keep your eyes closed."

Sophie did as he requested, and felt Howl's hands lightly touch her from her neck and shoulders, across her back, breasts and ribs, then down to her waist and hips. "What are you doing, Howl?" she murmured.

"Open your eyes and see," he said, the grin apparent in his voice.

"Oh. A dress form." _A dress form I didn't ask for._

"You don't like it," he said, a bit surprised.

"No, Howl, it's perfect. It's just what I needed. Thank you." Her affect was flat.

"What's wrong, Sophie?" His voice was gentle, but insistent.

Sophie turned to him, and leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him and breathing in his scent. "You think of everything, don't you?" Her voice was a sad whisper.

"Darling, please tell me. What have I done to make you so sad, so angry?"

"I...nothing, Howl. It's stupid."

"Why won't you talk to me?"

"I already told you. It's just hormones. Things bother me right now that wouldn't normally."

"It's normal to get angry, Sophie. And I really don't care if it is silly or stupid. We need to be able to talk, love."

She didn't reply.

Howl sighed. "Well then. I'll wait until you're ready." He returned to his seat in the Inglenook, and looked at Sophie questioningly.

Sophie removed the many pins from the square of fabric she'd been working on, and began to drape it on the dress form. She'd originally planned on a bodice identical to the one on the robin's egg blue dress Howl had given her, but the use of a dress form opened up other possibilities. She played with the fabric square, noting how it flowed elegantly when held on the bias, and finally decided that a softly draped neckline would use the fabric to its best advantage, and be quite flattering, as well.

She looked up to see Howl looking at her lovingly. She'd been so immersed in her work that she'd thought he'd left. But he was still waiting for her to talk to him. He drummed his fingers on his thigh, and yawned again.

"Will you stay here all afternoon? Is this to become a battle of our wills, Howl?"

"It's evening, Sophie." She looked up and saw that indeed the sun had set. "If that's what it takes," Howl continued, "well then, yes, Sophie, it will be a battle of our wills. And I have no doubt that I'll win."

"_Excuse me?"_ Sophie's voice raised significantly. He had finally pushed her far enough to get a reaction. "Are you really sure you want to know, Howl?" He nodded, smiling at her long-awaited response. "Well, then, I'll tell you. You talk about being selfish, cowardly and vain. And you are vain."

"No contest, there, Sophie." Howl smiled at her sunnily.

"But what you really are, Howl, is arrogant." The smile left his face.

"Yes, Howl. Arrogant, controlling and...puerile!"

"Puerile?"

"Puerile, Howl. Childish."

"I know what puerile means, Sophie. I had five long years of Latin at the Academy." He looked at her curiously. "Did you?"

She misunderstood and said acidly, "No, Howl. The finishing school I attended would have thought it highly inappropriate for a girl to learn something so _academic_. Better to learn housekeeping, embroidery, posture, the right way to pour a cup of tea. You know. Things that don't require so much brainpower. I had to beg my father for a subscription to the lending library. But he finally agreed and I read and read until I'd learned my fill."

"Oh." Howl said, trying to smooth things over. "I was just wondering. You have quite a vocabulary for a girl from Market Chipping."

"There's that arrogance. Am I really so inferior to you?" There were tears in her eyes, and she found that she could not stop herself from almost shouting at him.

"You really think I'm... arrogant... and controlling... and _puerile_?" There was hurt in his voice, and a look of utter shock in his eyes. She really meant it, he could tell.

She did not answer, and averted her eyes.

"But you don't think it's worth talking about. You think it's _stupid_, actually."

Again there was no answer.

"Well, then." He turned on his heel and quickly left the room.

She heard his light, sock-clad footsteps on the stairs, and the low rumble of a hurried conversation with Markl, then his shoe-clad tread on the stone steps leading to the portal, and the metallic clink of the portal dial. He was gone.

Sophie fell to the bed, sobbing.

...o...o...

This was her mess, she realized after about a half hour. He was right. They needed to communicate openly. But she felt so foolish flying off the handle at every little affront. The pregnancy was making her moody and it was hard to tell which feelings were real, which were important. Obviously, as she saw just a little too late, the feelings she'd just shared with Howl _were _very important. He shouldn't have had to drag them out of her. Doing so had made things worse. She'd been abrupt. Surely he deserved to hear what she meant. In kinder words.

She rose from the bed and trudged downstairs. Calcifer was back, she noticed.

"Markl's gone to his room. He mentioned something about bringing a snowman to life. Took three huge books with him. Probably weighed as much as he does."

"Calcifer, I'm really sorry for my behavior this morning. I was really upset– not by your words, but because I thought Markl might realize. I worry that he'll feel left out of things, and I don't want that. He's important to me."

"Sophie, why are you crying? I'm not angry. Howl explained it all to me hours ago. Sophie, did Howl upset you? I saw him leave in a hurry."

"Where did he go?"

"I don't know. The portal always turns back to black when he leaves."

"Calcifer, Howl didn't do anything to upset me._ I_ upset _him_. I was unkind and hurtful. I don't know what's wrong with me. I need to find him, Calcifer."

Sophie grabbed her boots from the chair by the woodstove, and leaned to put them on. Immediately, she was overcome with nausea.

"Great. Just what I need." Sophie staggered to the bathroom, and leaned on the sink, head against the mirrored medicine cabinet. The wave of discomfort passed, and she used a now familiar method to put on her boots, then grabbed the lovely cape Howl had given her that day.

Where would he be? The portal had three settings now. One for the waste, one for the secret meadow, and the one to nowhere/everywhere. Sophie turned the knob and opened the door. It had snowed since earlier in the day, and the snow's surface was untouched. The moon was low and huge in the sky, and its silver light glittered off the refrozen crust of the snow. Sophie shut the door and thought. It he'd used the black portal he could be absolutely anywhere. She hoped he was in the meadow.

Sophie made a heartfelt wish, then turned the knob again, which clunked with a dull thud. A moment later the dial turned. Its metallic clink resonated in her ears. Sophie held her breath and stepped outside. She hadn't realized the meadow was in a different part of the country. But surely it was. The moon was higher in the sky, and it was a bit less cold here. She hoped she wouldn't get caught in a boggy patch, as she remembered that there was no clear path from the portal house to the cottage, just many small, marshy islands. Sophie looked down and immediately realized Howl had been here. A swath of hoar frost lay before her, sparkling brightly in the moonlight as though the meadow had been strewn with diamonds. It was simply beautiful. Sophie followed this path, which led to the cottage, noticing that the center of the swatch had been tread upon. She came to the door and knocked.

"Howl, I'm coming in." There was no answer, but the door opened easily.

The cottage had the musty smell of a house that hasn't been lived in for years. It was colder here than outside. _Strange_, Sophie thought. The room was lit only by moonlight, but the night was bright and Sophie could see that Howl lay on his back on the small bed that stood in the corner of the room. He was tossing a snowball, and didn't acknowledge her presence.

"Howl," Sophie said with a shiver. Howl extended his hand and casually flicked his fingers. A roaring fire came to life in the room's small stove. Sophie moved gratefully to it, and warmed her hands while she considered her words. "Weren't you cold, Howl?" she looked at him curiously. He had returned to tossing the snowball.

"Cold doesn't bother me. Never has," he replied without looking at her.

It was almost as though he were coated in ice, Sophie thought. As though he'd erected some shell around himself. He was hurting, it was obvious, but he clearly didn't want to talk about it. This was different from the tantrum he'd thrown when she'd ruined his hair color. There were no spirits of darkness. No theatrics. Just a feeling of loneliness and emptiness.

She moved to Howl's side, and leaned in to kiss him. He turned his head away, so that his head faced the wall. She climbed over him and lay by his side, holding his head so that he wouldn't turn away again. She wrinkled her nose as she smelled the mustiness of the sheets and straw mattress that lay below them. Undoubtedly this bed had served as home for more than one small animal while the cottage stood empty. She looked down again, and a feather mattress was under her. Howl gave her a small smile.

"I hope that wasn't too controlling," he said dryly. "I was pretty sure I knew what you were thinking just now." She took the snowball from him, touching his hands as she did so. He was ice cold. Sophie removed her cloak and covered them with it.

"You're freezing."

"It's how I feel. Cold and empty."

"Howl, I'm sorry. You didn't deserve to hear those awful things I said."

"If it's how you feel, then yes I did deserve to hear that. We're supposed to be honest, Sophie." They were both silent for a moment.

"Sophie, do you really feel that way about me? Am I that horrible to be around?"

Sophie looked into his eyes and saw the pleading there, the fervent wish not to be rejected, but to be loved fully and completely. "What you heard was frustration, Howl. I love you. You know that, don't you? I don't want to be apart from you. I don't want you hurting." She kissed him, and felt his lips like marble, smooth and cold. She was about to pull away when he kissed her back, softly.

"I don't want you hurting, Sophie. But I am hurting you. You wouldn't have said those things if it weren't true."

"Howl, can we start over? Can I tell you what's bothering me without the use of hateful words? Can I tell you everything and give you the context?"

Howl pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. "That's all I want, darling."

"Today you hurt my feelings." He looked at her quizzically. "When you told me my taste in clothes was frumpy."

"That's not exactly what I said, Sophie."

"It doesn't matter. _That_ wasn't what hurt my feelings. What hurt was the realization that you make most of the decisions concerning us. Even about things that would normally be mine to decide– like clothing. You have wonderful taste, darling, but when you make all the decisions about what I wear, it leaves me feeling like a doll. And then later, when you announced we'd be visiting my mother and sisters-- I'm sure your intentions were good–"

"I know you miss them, darling."

"But I should be part of that decision. And even this afternoon, when you decided I needed a dress form--"

"But you did! Didn't it help?"

"Yes, Howl, but that's not the point. You're considerate– you're easily the most considerate, caring person I've ever met." She kissed him. "I mean that, you know. But you _must _let me help make the decisions. Let _me _ask for the dress form, instead of you deciding I need it. At least half of the time, let me help."

Howl closed his eyes and thought for a while. Then he looked into her eyes and said, "I rarely try to walk in your shoes. For each of those examples, I was just trying to make you happy. But I can see why you'd find those things controlling. I see now how much it bothers you. This is what you meant by that "great and powerful wizard" comment some time ago, isn't it?"

"You _are _great and powerful. The problem is that I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You have great power over my heart, Sophie." Howl pulled her tighter and kissed her deeply. "And you are great, darling. You put yourself into everything you do. You've filled our house with love." Howl stroked her hair, and said softly, "You have my promise that I'll share decision-making with you. You deserve it, darling. Now, what about being "puerile"?

Sophie half-smiled. "That one was said in anger. You're not childish, you're childlike. It's something I love about you. I only said it because you kept coming after me, begging me to talk to you. You reminded me of my little sister Martha, begging incessantly for a cookie."

"Some people think tenacity is a good thing."

"Yes, I'd agree. Usually. But not in this particular circumstance." She was quiet for a while, then lowered her eyes and sighed. "In the spirit of complete honesty, I need to revise what I just said. You did act childishly when we were out in the snow. I was surprised by the way you wanted me to side with you against Markl."

"We were only playing, Sophie. And you are my wife. Of course you should be on my side."

"No, Howl, you're wrong." It felt good to say that, Sophie realized. "You and Markl have a different relationship now. He's no longer your apprentice. You're his father, and I'm his mother. Both of us can't side against him at the same time. It's not like we're a bunch of children playing together, all equal in power. Two adults against one child is just not fair, unless we're talking about discipline."

Howl turned away for a moment, lost in thought. Sophie looked at him nervously.

"That was hard for you to say, wasn't it?" Sophie nodded, still apprehensive.

"Thank you for being honest. I'm not sure I agree with you, but you did have a more normal childhood than I did."

"This isn't about winning or losing, is it, Howl?"

"No, of course not. But you are usually right, you know." He smiled slyly at her. "So what about being 'arrogant'?"

"Well, you _are_, Howl. I don't think there's any denying that." Sophie smiled at him. "And I have to say, usually it doesn't bother me. After all, you are brilliant, you're the most adept wizard in the land, you're handsome, you're charming–"

"I have _you_."

Sophie hushed him. "Who would fault you for being arrogant?"

"But you're talking about a different type of arrogance, aren't you? How did I hurt you, Sophie? Tell me so I can fix it."

"When did you take that handkerchief? Why did you wave it around like I was some kind of prize?" She was angry again, as angry at this one action as she had been about everything else that had transpired that day.

Howl was a bit stunned by the anger in her eyes. And then he suddenly remembered a comment she had made weeks before. He'd given her his sapphire pendant, and she'd seemed sad at not having a gift for him in return. The handkerchief was that gift, he realized. She'd poured herself into it– it had obviously taken many hours to embroider. He'd have banged his head against the wall if she hadn't been in the way.

"I just now realized, Sophie, that it wasn't mine to take. And I certainly shouldn't have waved it around like I did. But I do have an explanation. Not an excuse, mind you, an explanation. When you were with Justin, and I finally finished the spells to fix that wizard problem we were having, I knew I'd need to search for you. To do so, I needed something of yours. All of your clothes were gone, except for that hideous thing Justin had bought you. I did find some of your underthings in your chest of drawers, but I wasn't even sure you'd ever worn them– they didn't smell like you–"

"Of course they didn't smell like me. They were _clean_, Howl." Sophie rolled her eyes.

"Well, I was pretty sure they wouldn't work to scry you, so I went into our bedroom, and happened across the handkerchief. You'd stuffed it behind a pillow and it announced itself to me rather sharply. Howl's hand moved inadvertently to his rump, and Sophie giggled. I knew it would work perfectly– it was something that belonged to you, as it was your handiwork, and I only needed to remove two small threads from the hem. Then, once I scryed you, I didn't want to leave the handkerchief behind. And I was glad I didn't. I looked at it constantly while I was in that jail cell. And I've kept it with me, since then. I couldn't help myself."

"Let me finish it, and I'll give it to you properly."

"I can be a bit dense, Sophie, but please know that I don't think of you as my property. You're not a doll to me, you're not a plaything, or something to parade before others to show my success. You know, when I said I wouldn't mind showing you off at a big wedding, that's not what I meant. What I meant was that I want the world to see how happy we are, how happy you've made me, and I want the world to see just how special you are."

With that, his lips crushed hers in a kiss that demonstrated his commitment, his love and his fears.

"Don't leave me, Sophie. Don't stop loving me." Howl's voice trembled as he spoke.

"Howl, I promise. That will never, never happen. I'll never stop loving you."

They kissed again, slowly and softly. Then Sophie broke it off with a laugh.

"You dreamed about me in this very bed. Didn't you, years and years ago?"

Howl smiled. "Yes. Almost every night. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"


End file.
